


LINKED IN THE HEART

by PainBehindMyEyes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PainBehindMyEyes/pseuds/PainBehindMyEyes
Summary: Daryl grasps an opportunity to break free from his brother's constant companionship and start living his own life, but his new life quickly becomes very complicated when he falls in love just as the virus breaks out in Georgia. Follows TWD timeline until Day 1450 and wanders off, ends before the big time jump in Season 9.Romance, Sex, Offensive Language, Some ViolenceThe Walking Dead Characters Do Not Belong to Me. I'm just playing with them during their downtime.Original Characters Belong to Me
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	1. Inklings of Change

_Day 1_

Daryl turned the key in the lock, pushed the door open, and stepped into a scuzzy motel room. “Jesus,” he muttered, glancing at the ugly flowered bedspreads on the neatly made up beds. A dilapidated yellow dresser leaned against the wall opposite the beds, and an old television sat on top of it. He sat down on the edge of the nearest bed and started tugging off his new boots. They were still tight, and a real pain in the ass to get off. Every effort he made drew creaks and groans from the bed, and whispers of 'damn' and 'shit' from him until, finally, the boots fell to the floor.

He swung his body around and laid back, staring up at the nicotine stained ceiling. Five wooden fan blades circled slowly above, gently moaning with every rotation. The fan didn't want to be here any more than he did. He was looking forward to visiting Merle's friend, Clyde, though. They were going to stop by his place on their way into town tomorrow. Clyde had a great spot in the woods. Daryl closed his eyes and imagined himself laying in those woods at night, gazing at the stars, breathing in the earthy forest scent, and listening to the cry of an owl in the distance. The forest was the real world to him... not this sleazy dump.

The sound of his brother's heavy footsteps outside the door roused Daryl from his thoughts. He opened his eyes just as the door flung open and slammed into the wall. Merle stumbled in, a six-pack of cheap beer swinging from his hand. “Is there a fridge in this place?” he asked as he glanced around. “Guess not,” he muttered. He staggered across the room, clumsily plunked himself down at the end of the bed, and freed two beers from their plastic rings. Merle snapped the tab off a can, ignoring the foam pouring out. He took a long slug of beer before tossing the other can at Daryl. “Ya might have to get outta the room,” he barked. Merle took another guzzle. “The broad in the motel office is sweet on me, bro, says she might stop by later.” He stopped for a loud burp. “Want me to check if she has a friend?” Merle taunted. “Got any rubbers? We'll have us a double date!”

Daryl groaned. “No and no.”

“Figured that. Don't know why I bother askin' your pansy ass. Asshole Jack says your a homie, don't even look at his bitches. That sorta thing doesn't sit well with...”

“Not into your type of woman's all,” Daryl interrupted. “So why the fuck don't you just stop askin'?” Daryl was about to utter something about skanks and whores, but Merle was unpredictable when he drank, and Daryl was too damn tired to get into that shit.

Merle easily kicked off his own boots. “Fuckin' ungrateful bastard,” he spat. He grabbed the remote control from the night table and flicked on the television.

Daryl closed his eyes, silently wondering why he was still putting up with Merle's bullshit. The years were speeding by and here he was, still his brother's flunky, still lacking the courage to break out on his own for good. He'd tried leaving before, but he always ended up back here. No goals. No life. Him and his big brother, still running around without care or purpose, like they were a couple of fucking teenagers.

*****

Clyde's hunting and camping store lay a few miles outside a small town in Georgia. The store was unsigned by choice; but those in the know, knew where to find it – off the highway, off two paved roads, off a few gravel roads, and up a winding dirt driveway. There, in the middle of a clearing, stood a two-storey log house with a wide covered porch and large windows on either side of the door.

The store covered the entire ground floor with a casual lounge area near the left window. A round wooden table and chairs provided a place to sit and have coffee or just chat. Beyond that was a retail counter and a backroom. The other side of the store featured aisles of shelving stocked with camping, hunting, and fishing gear. Another backroom beyond the shelving housed the weapons - bows, knives, hunting rifles, and ammo. 

The owner, Clyde Birch, descended the wooden staircase that defined the middle of the store. He was a tall lanky man with dark grey hair and wore blue denim jeans and a red flannel shirt. His clean shaven face was wrinkled and weathered, but still well-favoured. 

Ramona, clad in a dark green tee-shirt and black jeans, was standing behind the counter rifling through store paperwork. She had a pleasant face, brown eyes and a shapely build, and stood barely five foot four. Her dirty blonde hair was reached to just below her shoulders. Ramona never wore make-up or fussy clothing. She treasured simplicity and comfort above all else, and refused to hide herself behind such trappings. 

Clyde stealthily approached the counter. “Morning!” he exclaimed, startling his niece.

“Jesus! What's gotten into you!” Ramona cried out.

“Oh, nothing,” Clyde said. He sorted through a short stack of magazines sitting on the counter and plucked out a new fishing magazine. Then he stared at his niece with a playful grin on his face. 

“Okay. What don't I know? What's the big secret?”

Clyde casually flipped a page. “Merle and his brother will be here this afternoon.”

“Daryl's coming here?”

“Merle only has one brother, so, yes, that would be Daryl.” Clyde chuckled. “I'm surprised you remember his name,” he teased.

Ramona blushed. “Duh, yeah, right,” she stuttered. “I've only had a lingering crush on him for the last seven plus years.”

Clyde laughed. “I figured that out a long time ago, sweetie. I've noticed how your eyes perk up whenever I mention Merle, and I sure as hell know those eyes weren't actually perking up for Merle. Not to mention that you've only been on three dates since that night.”

“Three dates too many,” she confessed. “The only women the men around here want are ones that will cook, clean, do laundry and fetch beer. I'm sure they'd want me to grow babies too, which I couldn't accommodate.” Ramona stared off into the distance. “I want a man who can look after himself... well, not the growing babies part, but the rest of it... well, I wouldn't mind doing the cleaning and fetching parts either, but only as a gesture of love, not duty.” She paused in thought for barely a moment. “Well, I guess if he brought home the rabbits, I'd skin 'em and cook 'em; but that's like more of a partnership...”

“I get the picture,” her uncle interrupted as he scurried over to the table with his magazine.

“Uhm... uncle Clyde...,” Ramona started, “you're not actually going to mention anything about that silly crush stuff are you?”

Clyde grinned, then strung her along for a moment. “Not my place to say, sweetie,” he finally replied, “and you're not a little girl any more.”

“Well, I wasn't entirely a little girl then, but...”

Ramona plunked herself down on the chair behind the counter. She leaned back and recalled the night she first sort-of met Daryl. She'd been sitting on top of the counter with her back snugly against the side wall. She was reading a book when Merle, Daryl, and a to-this-day unnamed drunk bustled into the store. She'd recognized Merle from a photograph that her uncle had, but had never seen Daryl before. The man was so cute and his eyes so dreamy that she couldn't stop staring at him. He had felt the cosmic connection eventually, she believed, because he finally stared right back across the room at her and smiled. Then he simply ignored her. Ramona's heart pounding euphoria lasted all of two seconds. Heartbreak for a fifteen year old girl.

She remembered Merle bellowing out, “Hey Clyde!,” and her uncle then rushing out from the backroom. He had greeted Merle with a hefty handshake, then said, “Been a long time, Merle, good to see ya!” before gesturing all three men to the table.

Ramona had immersed herself back in her book, stealing the occasional furtive glance at Daryl. She hadn't been paying much attention to the group's conversation, but at one point her uncle and Merle had gone into the backroom to check out Clyde's newest hunting rifles. An instant later, the drunk was standing right next to her. He was talking gibberish, grabbing at her shoulder, and tugging at her hair. She had felt his hot smelly breath on her face. In a flash, Daryl appeared behind the drunk and pulled him off of her. 

“What the hell are you doing!” Daryl had shouted.

“Mind your own damn business!” the drunk countered.

Daryl grabbed the man's shoulder, spun him around, and punched him straight in the face. “She's just a kid!”

The drunk raised his fist to punch Daryl and swatted air. He stumbled several steps forward, banged into the chairs, the table, and crashed onto the floor.

Clyde and Merle raced in from the backroom.

“What the hell's going on!” Clyde yelled.

“This fucking asshole!” Daryl howled back.

“I was just chattin' with her!” the drunk screamed from the floor. “She's purty!”

Merle pulled his bloodied drunken friend to his feet. “She's jailbait, you fucking idiot!”

“She's my goddamn niece!” Clyde shouted, “All of you get the hell out. Now!”

Ramona was suddenly jolted from her memories by her uncle's rustic voice. He was once again standing in front of the counter. “Can't say as much for Merle, mind you, but Daryl's a good man. Just needs to get off his brother's teat.”

Ramona was puzzled. “Huh?”

“Daryl's like an on/off switch,” Clyde explained. “He's either blustering out or keeping to himself, uneasy in the middle ground. He needs to learn there's more to being a man than trampling on others, like his brother taught him. He needs a real challenge, and the guidance of a worthy man with leadership skills to see him through it.”

Ramona groaned woefully. “Yeah, like where are we going to find those things?”

“Don't worry, sweetie,” Clyde said. “Real love lives in the quiet heart, not in the blustering or the middle ground. I've never told you this before, not wanting to encourage your little underage fantasy and all, but when Daryl left that night seven years ago, he told me to make sure I lock up. He apologized for bringing that stranger in here, even though I know that blame lay squarely on Merle's shoulders. That's a fact. Daryl sent Merle and his friend on their way, then planted himself on that bench out front. Stayed there all night, just in case that drunk asshole decided to come back.”

*****

_Day 2_

The morning dragged on and on for Ramona. The only customers were a couple who made a wrong turn on their way to a campground and came across the shop by accident. They had two small noisy children with them. Ramona drew up some quick directions for them, and they returned the favour by purchasing some fishing lures and batteries. Just as they left the store, Merle and Daryl walked in. Ramona's eyes went straight to Daryl. His hair was shorter than she remembered, and his face even more handsome. The school girl crush she'd held these past seven years hadn't waned, judging from the wild fluttering of her heart.

Daryl wandered over to the table to sit, while Merle approached Ramona at the counter.

“Look at you,” Merle said, “all grown up and all.”

Ramona was still in a tizzy over Daryl, and struggled to respond. “Uh, hi, Merle, uh, thanks,” she said, followed by a shout-out to her uncle, “Uncle Clyde, Merle's here!”

Daryl picked up a softcover book about European mounts that was sitting on the table, and he started thumbing through it. He took a few furtive glances at Ramona and remembered back to when he had first seen her years earlier, sitting on top of the counter reading. She was a girl then, obviously a woman now. Even from his seat at the table, Daryl was drawn to an aura of honesty and clarity about her. He'd never noticed those qualities in a woman before, not merely due to his own lack of experience, but also due to the drunken female company his brother kept, obnoxious painted baubles. 

Clyde sauntered down the stairs and greeted Merle with a handshake. He led Merle outside right away, ignoring Daryl at the table who was now immersed in the book. A minute later, Ramona was standing across the table from Daryl. She held a thick yellow glass ashtray in one shaky hand, and had a cigarette and lighter in the other. “Wanna smoke?” she asked.

Daryl glanced up at her. “You smoke here during the day?”

“Almost closing time,” Ramona said. She placed the ashtray nervously on the table. “I don't think we'll have any more customers in, and friends don't really give a crap about a little smoke.” She was hoping that Daryl would ask her to sit with him, but he simply pulled out a pack of smokes from his shirt pocket, lit one, and continued reading the book.

Ramona summoned up her courage and pulled out a chair. “Mind if I sit?”

“Your place,” Daryl said. He didn't normally make small talk with anyone, especially strangers; but her gentle voice was a welcome relief from his brother's constant verbal barrage, and he realized that he enjoyed listening to it. He set the book down on the table.

Ramona sat down and lit her smoke.

Daryl glanced at her. “Would have offered if I knew you smoked,” he said. He smiled when Ramona realized she'd just lit the wrong end of her cigarette. A disgusting bitter taste filled her mouth and a pungent stench filled the air. She squashed the offending smoke in the ashtray.

“Damn that shit stinks,” Daryl commented.

Ramona waved her arms in the air trying to disperse the disgusting odour. “Sorry about that.” 

Daryl offered her one of his smokes and she plucked it from his fingers and put it in her mouth.

“Best let me do that,” he teased as he held out his lighter. “So where ya from? I can tell you ain't from around here.”

“Cuz I don't know how to light a smoke?”

“Cuz you talk different.”

“Oh. Originally from Detroit, but I've been living here with Uncle Clyde and Aunt Bess for about eight years. You?”

“Born and raised in the state. Been travellin' around with Merle for a time, takin' odd jobs here and there. Had a few good hunting gigs over the years, but Merle always managed to fuck those up with his drinking... and his temper.” Daryl surprised himself. He rarely spoke that many words to anyone, let alone a stranger, shit... and a woman at that.

“I know my uncle's looking for a guide,” Ramona offered hopefully, “but it would be a one man show. I mean, if your interested in settling somewhere for a spell.” She rose from the chair when she heard Clyde and Merle return, then she scurried back to the counter.

“Ready to hit the road there, bro!” Merle shouted.

Clyde was confused. “You boys leaving already? You just got here.”

“We'll be gettin' on,” Merle explained, “stayin' in town with Dan for the next couple weeks. I'll drop in on ya again though for a real visit.”

Daryl pushed his chair back and stood up. “Go on ahead, Merle,” he said, “I wanna talk to Clyde for a minute.”

“I'll unload the bike,” Merle told him. “I'm wantin' some wind in my face. You can bring the pick-up.”

After Merle left, Clyde approached Daryl. “What's on your mind, Daryl?” he asked.

“Ramona says you're lookin' for a guide.”

Clyde glanced over at his niece and grinned, then returned a straight face to Daryl. “That's right. Hiking through the woods leading hunters to their prey is getting to be a chore for these old bones. Tell you what, son, why don't you get outside before Merle leaves and tell him that you'll be spending a couple of days with us. I'll show you around, map out the details, and you can decide if you want the job. Includes a cabin about four hundred yards due north. You can stay there till you decide.”

Daryl was eagerly looking forward to spending some time in the woods and quickly nodded his agreement. He left the store and discovered that Merle already had the bike offloaded. 

“I won't be followin' you,” Daryl told his brother. “Stayin' here for a couple of days with Clyde.”

Merle laughed. “Stayin' here for a couple of days with the little honey you were chattin' up, most likely. 'Bout time you tried using your dick for somethin' besides pissin'.”

“Fuck off, Merle!” 

A minute after Merle tore off on his bike, Clyde emerged from the store. “Grab your stuff, Daryl, and we'll head on up to the cabin. The four-wheeler's around the side of the building.”

Daryl retrieved his bag and crossbow from his pickup and they made their way to the ATV.

*****

Daryl and Clyde entered the small log cabin that had been Clyde's home decades ago. There was a small covered deck out front with a wooden bench. Inside, a small square table with two chairs sat in the middle of the room. Along the right wall, an old brown sofa sat beneath the window, and a small wood stove rested in the far corner. The kitchen was spread out along the other wall. There were a few cupboards, counter with a sink, three-burner propane stove and small propane fridge.

Clyde stood by the door as Daryl walked over and tossed his things on the sofa. “I wasn't expecting much more than a sleeping bag on the floor,” he admitted.

“You'll be comfortable here. There's a bedroom in the back, not fancy, and a bathroom next to it with a shower. The water's good, I come up every couple of weeks and let her run awhile.” Clyde pulled the main breaker on the wall next to the door and a lonely ceiling light came on. “Power's been off for awhile,” he said, “so it'll take a couple of hours for the hot water to get up to temp.”

“Nice,” Daryl remarked.

“Wander around, get a feel for it. I'll send Ramona back up with the ATV for you. She can pack up some bedding, food and coffee. I'll stop by in the morning to show you around the land.”

Daryl nodded.


	2. I Only Cry Alone

Immediately after Clyde left, Daryl went over to the sofa and sat down next to his stuff. This place may not have seemed like much to some people he thought, but it seemed a lot to him. It stirred up an old dream he used to have of homesteading in Alaska some day, of building his own log cabin with his own hands, of watching grizzlies and caribou. He wanted to hunt moose, and fish for salmon in the cold clear Alaskan waters. For a moment, he wondered whatever happened to that dream, but only for a moment.

*****

Daryl realized he had dozed off on the sofa when he was woken a couple of hours later by Ramona's presence in the cabin. She was putting things away in the fridge and the cupboards, and had left a pile of bedding, towels and books on the table.

“Oh, you're up!” Ramona exclaimed. “I brought up some things for you. I put a hot dinner in the oven on low, so don't forget about it.”

Daryl simply grunted.

“I brought some books for you too. The one you were reading and a few others. I'm kind of surprised, actually, that you read.”

Daryl suddenly glared at her. “Why? Do you think I'm stupid or somethin' cuz I grew up in the hills? Here's a big word for ya - *stereotype*. Look it up if you don't know what it means.”

Ramona was mortified. “Sorry,” she said, “no, no, nothing like that. It's just... your lifestyle... the wandering... your brother... reading just doesn't seem to fit in with all that... stuff. God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything...”

Daryl instantly recognized the humiliation written on her face, he'd been there himself too many times not to. The woman was about to start crying. He fidgeted a bit and then rose from the sofa. “Sorry I thought that of you then,” he said, “sometimes my mouth spouts off before my brain's in gear.”

Ramona simply nodded her head and grabbed up the pile of linens from the table. “I'll just take this stuff and get your bed made up,” she said. She turned around and accidentally bumped into the chair, spilling everything to the floor. 

“Leave it, I'll do that,” Daryl told her.

“No... no..., just let me do this, and then I'll get out of your hair.” Ramona scooped up the bedding and towels from the floor and sped off into the bedroom.

Daryl took the plate of chicken and corn out of the oven, grabbed a fork from the drawer and set everything on the table. He sat down to eat, but he could hear Ramona's subdued sobbing as she was shuffling around the bedroom making up the bed. He waited awhile, but only the shuffling stopped. Daryl picked up his fork, then dropped it back on the table. “Fuck,” he muttered before finally deciding to go check on her.

Daryl stepped into the bedroom. Clyde was right, it wasn't fancy. The big bed looked comfortable enough, and more inviting than the one in that shit-hole motel room he stayed in the previous night. The only other furniture in the room was a dresser and a side chair. The bed was made up and Ramona was sitting on its edge with a small white towel in her hands. “Why ya cryin' over this shit?” Daryl asked.

Ramona turned her head away from him. “Don't look at me,” she begged. “I don't cry in front of people.”

“I ain't people. It's just me, and I don't cry in front of people either. Why are you cryin' just cuz you thought you offended me? Why the hell would you cry over that? Shit, my brother offends me a hundred times a day.”

Ramona wiped her eyes with the towel and looked at him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I just feel too much, especially if I've caused someone I... someone pain.”

“No pain here,” Daryl insisted. “Shouldn't have blasted away at ya like that. I'm gonna go eat. Come on out when you're ready.”

Daryl had finished eating and had his dishes in the sink by the time Ramona finally stepped out from the bedroom. “I'll be goin' now,” she said. “Bed's done, fresh towels in the bathroom, well, except for the one I used.”

Daryl approached her near the bedroom door. “Done with your whining?”

“I'm done. Sorry about that.”

Daryl accompanied her to the front door where he suddenly stopped. “Where's that goddamn tinkling noise coming from?” he asked.

“Oh, right out here,” Ramona told him with a little too much excitement. 

Daryl stepped outside and Ramona pointed to a wind chime that was dangling from a wooden arm protruding from the wall. “It's a wind chime,” she said. “I put it up for you just before I came in. Some people don't like them, but they keep the bears away.”

“Oh, really,” Daryl said, his voice oozing sarcasm.

“Really,” Ramona insisted. She spread out her arms towards the woods. “Do you see any bears?”

Daryl carefully took the chimes down and placed the hook over her finger so they could dangle freely from her hand. “I'm not afraid of bears,” he said, “and I'd rather not be woken by that stupid thing if the winds pick up.”

“Fair enough. The key's in the quad. I'll be heading down home now. See ya!” 

Daryl watched her as she headed down the hill, swinging and bouncing that stupid wind chime, making as much noise as she possibly could, all for his benefit. Much to Ramona's chagrin, however, the fishing line that tied the individual chimes in place suddenly twisted and clumped together into a solid soundless mass. Daryl chuckled. As much as he found her disposition to tears unnerving, he found her ease at being light and silly uplifting. Daryl unexpectedly found himself welcoming her peculiar intrusion into his harsh and lonely world, but he still didn't like wind chimes.

Daryl went back inside the cabin and into the bedroom. Laying on the chair by his bed was the hand towel that Ramona had used to dry her tears. Daryl picked it up and rubbed his face in it, trying, somehow, to take back the tears she had actually shed for him.


	3. Walks In The Woods

_Day 3_

Daryl was awake and ready the next morning when Clyde arrived to guide Daryl on his ATV tour of the vast property. The acreage was dotted with trails, but there was also plenty of area that could only be accessed on foot. There was a small private lake at the far end, and a few streams and meadows sprinkled about. Clyde had a permanent and somewhat elaborate spike camp area set up about three quarters of the way up the property. It included a picnic table, fire pit, outhouse, and even a hand pump for water. A plastic shed held pup tents, pots and pans, lanterns and other assorted items.

Clyde spent much of the day showing Daryl around, including the property boundaries, but left enough areas for Daryl to explore on his own later. On their way back to the cabin, they came across Clyde's target range.

“I always stopped here first with my groups,” Clyde said. “Good place to run off a few before the hunt, or just sight in your gun. Ramona's usually up here every couple of weeks.”

“She shoots?” Daryl asked.

“Fine shot,” Clyde said, “unless it's really windy. That woman has absolutely no concept of windage, and won't use a scope.”

“She hunt?”

“Hunts targets. Doesn't have the heart to actually kill anything. She can field dress like a pro, so it's not a blood and guts thing. She'll come up here and fire off a few rounds, but spends most of her time gathering up the larger calibre casings for a neighbour who has the equipment to reload them.”

The two men soon continued on to Daryl's cabin and disembarked from the ATV. Clyde walked a few yards away and sat on a tree stump. “Did you check out this area at all yesterday, Daryl?” he asked.

“I walked around a bit,” Daryl replied.

“Wander around some more, tell me if you see anything.”

Daryl walked around for a good ten minutes, but he couldn't find anything unusual. “What am I supposed to be looking for?” he asked.

“You did your best?”

“Always do my best, man, but there ain't nothing here.”

“Good to know,” Clyde said. “If a man like you can't find it, I guess I did a good job.”

Daryl was puzzled.

Clyde stood up and walked in a straight line a hundred steps from the stump to near the edge of the woods. He bent down, brushed away some leaf debris, and found a green handle at the edge of a rectangular steel door. The door was finished with a mat of realistic looking plastic moss and real twigs. Clyde pulled up on the handle, opening the door to his underground bunker.

Daryl thought it was pretty cool. “You have a bunker?”

Clyde pointed to the entrance. “Wanna take a peek?”

“Don't like small spaces much, but yeah.”

Clyde stepped down the narrow metal stairway and flicked a switch on the wall, lighting up a row of small white LED lights that ran straight down the ceiling. He stepped forward to make room for Daryl. “Got a propane generator, battery backup fresh air, and a trio of thousand pound propane tanks buried outside,” he said.

The main living area of the bunker was about eight feet wide and sixteen long, built below the clearing above. It was furnished similar to a travel trailer less the fridge, but there was a small electric cooler. There was also a television, and a large shelf full of DVDs, books, and jigsaw puzzles. Clyde strode over to the sink and turned on the tap. “Gravity fed so it's a little slow,” he explained, “same for the bathroom shower. Water's piped in from the well outside your cabin and drains down into a leaching pit.”

Daryl was impressed. “You have a shower?”

Clyde laughed. “Would you want to live in here for months or years without one?”

Daryl shrugged.

Clyde led his guest further into the bunker. On either side of the next section there was a private compact bedroom furnished with a small closet and bunk beds. Clyde pointed further down the hall. “Bathroom, supply storage, generator room and emergency exit are all down there. You could survive here for a decade, depending on numbers.”

“Too confining,” Daryl maintained, “think I'd take my chances topside.”

The two men exited the bunker and Clyde carefully concealed the entrance, then turned to face Daryl. “Got a hog job scheduled for about a week and half from now, and we're pretty booked up after that. If you wanna start tomorrow, I can keep you busy 'til then. Pay's the same.”

Daryl didn't even need to think on it. Being in the woods and away from Merle's incessant badgering had turned into an unexpected pleasure. “I'll be here,” he said.

“Good. I'll make up a list tonight of things that need doing. Come on down to the store in the morning.”

*****

_Day 4_

It was past noon when Clyde returned to the store from his tool shed search. He set a small box of nails on the table and then called out for Ramona, who was busy dusting the store shelves and straightening up merchandise.

“Over here!” she shouted.

Clyde walked over to her. “Smells good around here, your aunt must be doing some baking upstairs.”

“She's been baking cookies all morning for the school bake sale,” Ramona explained.

“I left some nails on the table. Would you mind taking them up to Daryl? He's at the hanging shed replacing some broken boards.”

“Sure. I'll head over there in a few minutes.”

Clyde disappeared back outside and Ramona rushed up the stairs. A couple of minutes later, she came down with a half-full plastic bag, added the box of nails to it, and then headed out the door.

The hanging shed was about half way up to Daryl's cabin. Ramona didn't understand why her uncle called it that, as there was only a small area for hanging game. Most of the building was actually a well equipped and very clean processing centre for the meat. Not only was there hydro and running water, but also stainless steel tables, a triple sink, every imaginable cutting tool, and even a meat grinder. Game came out of that place all wrapped and ready for the freezer.

As Ramona got close to the building, she could hear Daryl sawing boards at the back. She walked back there and waited until he finished his cut, then retrieved the box from the plastic bag. “Uncle Clyde sent me over with the nails,” she said. She set the box on the ground and then pulled out a small plastic container of cookies. “And I brought you some cookies.”

Daryl approached her. “I'd rather have a cold beer,” he said.

Unexpectedly, Ramona fished once again into the bag, pulled out a beer and waved it in front of him. “You can have it if you eat the cookies,” she teased.

Daryl snatched the beer from her hand, opened it, and took a drink. He hopped up on the work bench, then gestured at her to toss over the cookies. She did that, and Daryl popped the lid off. “Want any?” he asked.

Ramona sat down on a rock. “Nah, I'm good.”

“So how do ya like it out here, after living in the city?” Daryl asked, before stuffing a cookie in his mouth.

“I'd never go back, that's for sure,” Ramona told him. “It's such an artificial existence there. The people are drowning in veneerism, and so distracted by trivia and trinkets. They always have to be running around doing something just to feel alive. It's just sad is all.” She paused in thought for a moment. “All you have to do out here to feel life is look around and breathe. I don't know if you get that, it's hard for most people to understand.”

“I understand it more than you know. Worst part is people thinkin' there's something wrong with ya because ya wanna live like that.”

“Yeah, like they think their 'civilized' culture is somehow superior,” Ramona added. “Sounds familiar doesn't it.”

“I could stretch my legs a bit,” Daryl said. “Ya wanna go for a little walk in the woods? Feel some of that life?”

“Sure. I mostly have to stick to the trails or just inside the edge of the woods when I'm on my own. Well, basically always, because I'm basically always alone.”

“Why's that?”

“Why am I always alone?”

“No. Why do you always have to stick to the trails?”

“Oh... Well, because I have absolutely no sense of direction and even if I had a compass I'd probably still get lost. I got lost in a big restaurant back in the city once. Went to the john and couldn't find my table when I came out. I must have travelled every inch of that place three times before I finally found it.”

Daryl chuckled. “Yeah, that is pathetic,” he said. “Come on.” He hopped off the work bench and gestured Ramona to follow him. “I won't let you get lost,” he promised.

Ramona followed about ten feet behind Daryl. They weaved their way around and between trees for at least ten minutes before Daryl finally stopped. He turned around and looked at Ramona who was still walking towards him. “Jesus,” he said, “ya sound like a fuckin' elephant walkin' through here. Don't you know how to pick up your feet?”

Ramona swatted away a branch that was about to poke her in the eye. “You think I'm noisy now? You should hear me when I'm running. Well, at least I don't trip and fall down when I'm running. Have you ever noticed that in every television show and movie where there's a woman running through the woods, she *always* trips and falls? You just know it. Always happens. You just have to wait for it. Always... SHIT!” Ramona plowed her foot into a leaf covered branch and fell backwards flat on her ass.

Daryl stepped towards her and reached out a hand. “Thanks for the live show,” he said. “I don't get to watch much TV.”

Ramona grabbed his hand and let him pull her up. “I can hear the laughter in your voice, asshole,” she said. Once steady on her feet, she started brushing the leaves off her jeans.

“You alright? Anything hurt?” Daryl's tone bled more amusement than concern.

“Only my pride, especially since you're still laughing at me. Might not be out loud, but I can still hear it.”

“Look at my face,” Daryl challenged. “Does it look like I'm laughing?”

Ramona stepped within inches of him. “It looks like you're trying really hard not too,” she said. “Obviously you laugh so seldom that you don't even know when you're doing it.”

“Just not enough happy moments,” Daryl admitted, suddenly wondering why he said that out loud.

Ramona grinned at him. “Well then,” she said, “ass-fall and all, I'm happy to be one of those moments.”

Daryl reached out his hand. “Gotta' get back to work now anyhow. Here, take my hand and I won't let you fall.” Ramona reached out for his hand and she held it firmly all the way back to the hanging shed, a circumstance that Daryl found curiously comforting.


	4. Cast-Offs

_Day 5_

The following day, Daryl drove into town after work. He remembered the apartment building that Dan lived in and hoped he still lived there, as he didn't want to waste time trying to find out where else Dan might be living. There was only one small apartment building in town, and it was unlikely that Dan would ever scrape up enough money to buy or rent a house.

Daryl pulled into the driveway of the building and parked in the lot. He went inside, up the stairs to the second floor, and knocked on the door at the end of the hallway.

An inebriated Merle answered the door, “Hey, little bro, come on in. Where's your shit?”

“Not staying,” Daryl said.

“What, you just come over to have a beer with ol' Merle or somethin'?”

Daryl stepped inside the apartment. “Just lettin' you know I'm staying on a Clyde's for a time. Don't know how long yet. Few weeks, maybe longer.”

Merle was so drunk, he didn't seem to understand what Daryl was telling him. “Let me get you a beer,” Merle offered. He headed towards the fridge and tripped over a chair by the table. “Damn that fuckin' dog!” he shouted. He reached under the table and roughly pulled out a little puppy that was hiding there. The puppy yelped in fear.

“You tripped over the chair, Merle, not the dog,” Daryl told him.

Merle threw the puppy at Daryl, who barely caught it. “Take that fuckin' thing with ya,” Merle spat. “Dan was suppose' to get rid of it before he fucked off. Take it down the street or throw it in the dumpster or somethin'. Nothin' but a fuckin' pain in the ass.”

After five days of near-peace, Daryl found Merle's voice unusually irritating. “Goin' now Merle,” he said.

“Ya don't want no beer with your brother before you leave?”

“Maybe next time.” 

“Well, shit, that's alright, I was gonna have a nap anyway.”

Daryl turned around and left with the little puppy in his arms. It was a cute little thing, he thought. Looked a bit like a shepherd, but the colour was off. Looked a little sad and skinny too.

*****

Daryl arrived back at Clyde's about seven o'clock that evening. Ramona was sitting on the bench out front of the store and he headed straight for her.

Ramona quickly noticed the ball of fur that Daryl was carrying and she stood up to greet him. “What do you have there?” she asked.

“A real hungry puppy,” Daryl replied. “Can ya give him somethin' to eat and maybe let him stay a couple of days 'til I find somewhere to take him?”

Ramona scooped the puppy out of Daryl's arms. She cuddled it and petted its head. “Oh, you poor little thing,” she cooed. “Of course he can stay. He can stay forever if Uncle Clyde gives the all clear, which I'm sure he will if I promise to look after him.” She then passed the puppy back to Daryl. “Hold him for a sec, I'll go fetch him something to eat.”

Daryl was sitting on the bench playing with the dog when Ramona returned with two bowls. She set the food and water bowls down on the deck. Daryl put the puppy down and it started gobbling up the food.

“It's leftover chicken,” Ramona said. “We don't have any puppy or dog food in the store, but I can run down to the feed and tack tomorrow, they sell all kinds of pet supplies. He'll need a collar and leash too, and his own bowls I suppose.”

“I saw an old crate and a bale of straw in the garage. I'll set up a bed for him.”

“That'd be great,” Ramona said.

Daryl wandered off to fetch the crate while Ramona took the puppy down the steps to the grass to do his business.

A short time later, Daryl returned with the crate and set it down near the bench. Ramona put the puppy in it, and sat down on the bench with Daryl. 

“He's already going to sleep in the straw,” Ramona said. “He must really be tired. Where'd you find him anyway?”

“Doggie hell... nah, he was with my brother at Dan's place. They didn't want him.”

“I suppose living with someone who doesn't want you is a kind of hell even for a dog.”

Daryl simply nodded his agreement.

“I'm curious,” Ramona said, “do you know how Merle knows my uncle?”

“No idea,” Daryl replied.

“Uncle Clyde says he says he owes Merle one and that's that, end of story. All he'll say is that your brother can be a force to be reckoned with, and leans a little to the mean side.”

“Understatement of the year there, but my dad was worse,” Daryl confided.

“What about your mom?”

“Died when I was a kid.”

“Mine too. My dad went shortly after. They say he committed suicide, but he really died of a broken heart. Yup. Just went out for a drive one day, pulled over on the highway, and blew his own head off with a shotgun. I'm sure he knew that his brother would take me in though. He would have at least known that, wouldn't he?

Daryl reached for her hand and held it. “Yeah, he would have known that,” he said.


	5. Let Her In

_Day 8_

Daryl had spent the past three days further exploring Clyde's property, looking for game trails, and mapping promising spots for boar. During that time, his mind often drifted to Ramona. She had a gentle heart, but she wasn't meek. She drew conversation from him and made him laugh, and he drew a simple comfort from her. He found himself wondering what it would be like to hold her in his arms, and to have her hold him. He started imagining himself kissing her, and being kissed by her. Daryl tried shaking off his feelings, but they just kept coming back. Truth was, those feelings both excited and frightened him. Problem was, the more he thought about her - the more he thought about her.

On the way back to his cabin, Daryl shot a rabbit that he was going to fry up for dinner. As he drew close, he could hear what sounded like singing coming from the hanging shed down the hill, so he tossed the rabbit on the porch and headed towards the shed. The closer he got, the louder the singing was, and it was truly awful.

Daryl stepped into the shed and noticed Ramona wearing a bloodied white smock and carrying a skinning knife. “Ya killin' somethin' in here?” he asked.

Ramona was startled and embarrassed to see him standing there. “Okay, sorry, I know it's bad,” she said, “but it's a habit when I work and sometimes I get carried away.”

Daryl smirked. “I was talkin' about the blood,” he said, “but same thing goes for the... uh... music.” He then glanced to his left where he noticed the cold room door was open and a skinned twelve point buck was hanging by the antlers. “What's that?” he asked.

Ramona laughed. “Really? And you call yourself a hunter?”

Daryl chuckled. “And what do I call a woman who sings, or whatever the hell that was, around a bloody carcass while carrying sharp objects?”

“Multi-talented works for me!” Ramona yelped as she stripped off the bloody smock she was wearing over her clothes. “Uncle Clyde hoisted him up and we just finished skinnin' him. We kept the head up for you so the rack wouldn't get damaged if you want to use it. Enough work skinnin' like that, I'm not digging any brains out for ya or anything.”

Daryl appeared puzzled. “That buck's out of season, and I thought you didn't hunt?”

“I don't,” Ramona admitted, “but apparently my uncle's F-250 does. She nailed that buck when he flew across the road in front of her. Didn't do a lick of damage to the truck, just left a few hairs on the D-rings. Very sad though. The poor fella dragged himself off the side of the road by his forelegs. He was a hundred feet into the bush before he finally gave up. Had to take my knife out there and slit his throat, but he was spent and didn't put up a fight. After I gutted him, I came back to get Uncle Clyde to help me load him in the truck.”

“Your uncle said you don't kill anything, and I don't think he was talkin' about music.”

“Funny man. I can put a quick end to misery. But if it's ever between me and an animal, well, I just hope I have the nerve.”

Ramona crossed the floor to the sink and washed her hands, then shut the cold room door before joining Daryl at the doorway.

“Wanna walk me home?” she asked. “Check out the stuff I picked up for Pup?”

“Pup?”

“Yeah, you know, that little ball of fur you brought me a few days ago. That's what I'm calling him for now. I'll think of a suitable name once his personality shines through.”

Daryl offered his hand, “Sure, I'll walk you down.”

During their walk, Ramona rambled on about rumours she'd heard at the feed store, rumours about yet another unusual virus, and of websites mysteriously disappearing from the internet, and about man eating monsters. Daryl wasn't paying much attention to her words though, he was too busy focusing on his now intense feelings for her. He finally realized that he'd fallen in love. He'd never trusted anyone enough to render his heart, but yet he somehow knew that if Ramona accepted him, she would never betray his trust. What he understood above all else though, was an immediate need to either cut and run from it, or commit to it.

Daryl's heart made the choice for him when they arrived at the store. He turned to face Ramona and let go of her hand. He touched her cheek, lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her. Daryl was euphoric when she eagerly returned his kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her snugly to himself without breaking their kiss. Ramona put her arms around him and continued kissing him with an ever increasing passion, receiving back in kind from Daryl. Their hearts pounded together and their breaths drew quick. He wanted her, and she knew it.

Suddenly, Pup was jumping at their legs. Ramona gasped as she broke from Daryl. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess Uncle Clyde saw I was home and let him out. Guess I didn't hear him open the front door.”

Daryl smiled. “You were a little busy.”

“I was a lot busy,” Ramona declared. She gave Daryl a quick kiss before reaching down and picking up Pup. “It's your fault anyway. You brought him home!”

Daryl scratched the puppy's ear. “Your timing sucks, boy,” he muttered.

Ramona's aunt suddenly shouted down from the upstairs window, “Ramona dear! Can you come up and help me with dinner!”

“Guess she saw us,” Daryl said. “She must think you're still fifteen years old.”

Ramona leaned in to give Daryl another quick kiss. “And let me leave you with this truth, Daryl. I've been crazy for you since I was only fifteen years old. Since the moment I first saw you, right there in my uncle's store.” Ramona scooted off with Pup before Daryl had a chance to process her revelation.

When she reached the porch, Ramona turned around and shouted out, “I'll be up to your place for coffee in the morning!” She quickly waved him goodbye and ducked into the store.


	6. Undaunted

_Day 9_

Ramona woke early the next morning, slipped into her blue tank top, bluejeans and sandals and quietly took Pup outside for his morning ritual. Everything she did felt robotic, as her mind was only focused on Daryl and their first kiss the night before. Pup seemed to take forever to pee, and when he was finally done she carried him to the front door. “You stay here, Pup,” she said, as she opened the door and scooted the puppy inside.

Ramona trekked up the hill to the cabin and knocked on the door.

Daryl opened it a moment later, “You don't have to knock,” he said.

Ramona stepped inside and immediately noticed the glorious smell of fresh coffee. The percolator was noisily popping away on the stove. “You made coffee!”

“Your orders last night,” Daryl reminded her.

“Oh yeah, that's right,” Ramona muttered.

Daryl walked over to the counter and pulled two mugs down from the cupboard. “What do ya want in it. I have sugar. Might be cream in the fridge if you put some in there the other day.”

“I'll fix it,” Ramona offered. She fetched the cream from the fridge and went to stand next to Daryl.

Daryl shut off the stove and lifted the percolator up to pour. Ramona noticed that his hand was shaking as he poured the coffee into the two mugs, then set the pot back on the stove.

A nervous Ramona poured a little too much cream into her coffee and the cup overflowed. She chuckled. “Well, we're a shaky pair,” she said.

“Little nervous,” Daryl admitted.

“You're not afraid of bears but you're afraid of me?”

Daryl just shrugged and took his coffee to the table. Ramona followed him and sat down across from him. Daryl just sat quiet for several minutes drinking his coffee, and barely paid her a glance.

Ramona finally spoke. “Room feels a little cold,” she said. “You breaking up with me after one kiss? What happened last night? I'm not looking so good now in the light of day?”

Daryl could almost feel the pained expression on her face. “God, no, nothing like that,” he said.

Ramona stood up and approached him. “What is it, then?”

“It's me, it's all me,” Daryl insisted.

Ramona waited for him to continue, but he didn't. “That's not an answer, Daryl,” she finally said.

Daryl took her hands in his. “My heart's in this all the way,” he said, “but I need to know that yours is too. I ain't willing to...”

“I meant what I said last night,” Ramona interrupted. “I have been crazy for you for years. I can't even think about anyone else in that way, and I don't think I ever will. I don't know why. I can't explain it and I can't stop it. It just is. I'm just... I don't know... bonded to you somehow.”

Daryl rose from his chair and was standing mere inches from her. He finally smiled. “You sound serious enough,” he admitted.

“Dead serious,” Ramona insisted. “I've never been with another man, and if you won't have me, I likely never will be. The only man I've ever thought about is you. I'm not a little girl anymore and I still want only you. I want to be loved, but only by you. I've been wanting and waiting for a long, long time. You ask me and my answer is yes, and my answer is right now. You understand what I'm saying?”

“I got you,” Daryl said. He cupped her face and kissed her gently. She returned his kiss with an unexpected passion, and he put his arms around her and reciprocated the kiss in kind. Daryl knew this was the woman he'd been waiting for. He gently broke their kiss and asked her what she wanted to be asked, “Will ya come on to my bed?”

Ramona took his hand, and followed him into the bedroom.

They stood facing each other next to the bed. Daryl kissed her deeply as Ramona started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to push the button through the slot. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

Daryl chuckled. “They're snaps, hon.” 

Ramona smiled. “That's convenient.” She grabbed the two sides of the top of his shirt and yanked them apart to the bottom. “Fast too.” 

Daryl slid off his shirt and kissed her, then suddenly felt her small gentle hands floating on his back, soothing his long hidden scars without hesitation or question.

Ramona put her mouth to Daryl's ear. “You need love too,” was all she said.

Daryl kissed her again and slightly moved his body back. He pulled her tank top up and over her head and dropped it to the floor, then started fumbling with the fastener at the back of her bra.

“Let me help,” Ramona whispered. She reached her arms back and put her hands over Daryl's. “Just push in a little and slide it this way,” she said. Her bra came free and she slipped it off her shoulders. It fell straight into Daryl's hand and he held it up by a strap. He gazed at her breasts, grinned, and asked her, “How do you fit all of that into this little thing?”

“Thanks for the... uh... compliment... I guess,” Ramona sputtered. “It's a skill.”

“Talented woman,” Daryl whispered before he started kissing her again. He moved his hands and mouth over her, caressing her with his fingers and tongue. He could feel her heart pounding as quickly as his own was.

Ramona started working at Daryl's belt and zipper and his pants dropped to the floor. Daryl stepped out of his clothing, and Ramona slipped off her jeans. Standing before him wearing only her blue bikini panties, she smiled at him and put her hands on his shoulders. “This part's yours,” she teased. 

Daryl sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to Ramona's waist. Her entire body was quivering as he slid his hands slowly down her sides to her hips. He tucked his fingers into the edge of her panties and rolled them down her legs. When Ramona stepped out of them, her earthy scent overwhelmed Daryl with a primal desire. He tugged her into his bed and hovered over her. Ramona kissed him passionately as she took a gentle hold of him and guided him inside her.

Daryl thought that he was making her his own, but quickly realized that she was enveloping him with her own sheltering grip. His heart understood in that moment that it was an act of possession for both, that they belonged only to each other.

*****

“I wish I could stay in this bed all day,” Ramona whimpered sometime later.

“You could, but you'd be alone,” Daryl pointed out. “I promised Clyde I'd take care of a few things for him today.” Daryl rose from the bed and started getting dressed.

Ramona sighed. “Oh well, guess I may as well go to work too,” she said dejectedly. “I suppose I should have a shower first...”

“Um... pretty sure you had one before you came over,” Daryl commented. “I could smell the shampoo in your hair.”

“Don't you want one?”

“Why? I'm just gonna get all dirty again out there working.”

“Uh... okay...” Ramona waited a minute, but he didn't seem to get it, so she hopped out of her side of the bed and got dressed, then sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I'll bring some dinner up later if you like. We can eat together.”

“Sure,” Daryl agreed. He stealthily crept around the bed and startled her. “You're welcome to spend the night if you want,” he whispered in her ear.

Ramona stood up. “How could I not?” she whispered back in his ear. She planted a quick kiss on Daryl's lips and headed for the door. “Goin' now, see ya later!” 

*****

By the time Ramona arrived down at the store it was almost nine-thirty.

“You're late,” her uncle said.

“Sorry.”

“And you're looking a little too happy.”

Ramona's face visibly reddened.

Clyde walked over to her and hugged her. “I'm just teasin' you sweetie. I'm happy for you. I think you two will be good for each other.”

“I'm just crazy in love with him,” Ramona confessed, “I think about him all the time.”

“That's how it's supposed to be when you're in love,” Clyde declared. “I suppose you'll be wanting to spend more time up at the cabin for awhile.”

“I'll be staying up there tonight,” Ramona told him. “I can take Pup if you don't want to deal with him.”

“No, no. Leave him here. Your aunt Bess and I will enjoy taking him out for a walk tonight.”

Ramona thanked her uncle with a kiss on his cheek and then wandered over to her spot behind the counter. She was a bit startled to see a customer enter the store so early in the morning. The man spoke to Clyde, and the two of them went into the weapons room. From that moment on, the store remained busy. People were coming in and buying up everything from lanterns to tents to guns, ammo, and blades. There were whispers of something coming and of being prepared. Even Aunt Bess had to come downstairs and help out. Inventory had been so depleted by mid-afternoon, they decided to close up the store. It was right about that time that a huge thunderstorm rolled in. Torrential rains poured from the sky, lightening was striking the earth, and rolling thunder shook everything. The phones went out, the power went down, and the emergency generator kicked in.

*****

Two hours later the skies were still dark and it was still raining, though much lighter than it had been. Ramona fixed up a basket with dinner and headed up to the cabin.

Daryl had the propane lantern lit and was sitting on the sofa reading when she arrived. He dropped his book and greeted Ramona near the door. “Power's out,” he said.

“Yeah, been like that for a few hours now. I guess the storm knocked out some lines. We're okay down at the store, but the generator lines don't run up here... oh crap.”

“Oh crap what?”

Ramona moved towards the table and set down the basket. “No power in the shed either. Should be cool enough tonight, but I better get down there tomorrow and butcher that deer or it's going to end up in the trash.”

“Want some help?”

“I won't turn it down. Butchering always ends up being more work than you'd expect. Don't you have to work though?”

Daryl grinned. “Two days off,” he replied. He gestured towards the bedroom, “Wanna celebrate?”

Ramona kissed him lightly on the lips. “We better eat first,” she said. “Once you get me in there, we're in there for the night.”


	7. Crushed Worlds

_Day 11_

It had been two days since the power and phones went out, not in itself an unusual occurrence in the woods, but other strange things were going on. The emergency generator was clicking along just fine, but the satellite TV signal unexpectedly cut out, and both the radio signals they received in the area were only transmitting recorded music. No DJs, no weather reports, no news. Ramona and Daryl had gotten the deer butchered and wrapped the previous day, and went out to distribute most of the meat to neighbours, but several of them appeared to be away. Even the feed and tack store was deserted.

This evening, Clyde and Daryl were chatting in front of the hanging shed when they heard, then saw, Merle's motorcycle tearing up the driveway. 

“Wonder what the hell he wants,” Daryl mused.

Merle pulled up near the two men and stowed the bike. “Got some weird shit goin' on in town,” he announced. 

“Got some weird shit going on around here,” Clyde said. “Things been goin' down for a couple of days now. Television, phone. Nothin' but recorded alerts on the radio for the last few hours. People already hunkering down or moving out without a trace. Haven't heard any air raid sirens or seen any bright lights.”

“Don't think nukes are the problem,” Merle stated, “unless it's radiation turning people into flesh eating monsters.”

“What the hell kind of drugs are you on now, Merle?” Daryl asked.

“Stone cold sober,” Merle said. “Don't know what the fuck's goin' on in town. People were getting sick. Saw the National Guard fellas get picked up and hauled out a couple of days ago, just before the power went out. I stuck it out with candles at the apartment waitin' on Dan. He showed up in the dark early this morning. Said he got bit by a dog and went straight to bed. Not an hour ago I heard him moaning somethin' fierce and went in there to check on him. Shit. Eyes was all funny, blood all over him. Thought that dog must have bit him in the neck. I got within four feet of him and he lunged at me, his chompers chompin'. Damn guy was tryin' to bite me. Ain't no rabies kicks in that fast. Tried to whack him in the head and he grabbed my arm, looked like he was fuckin' tryin' to eat it. He's climbin' outta bed trying to get at me. I grabbed a bat and stuck it in his gut. Didn't do nothin'. Wouldn't stop coming. Wiped out his knee caps. Just kept comin', crawlin' for me. Started bashing him in the head and still kept comin'. Least till I broke his skull and his brains gushed out. Jesus.”

Clyde shifted uncomfortably. “Seriously, Merle, like Daryl asked, you get hold of some bad shit?”

“That ain't the all of it,” Merle continued. “I got myself the hell outta that building and found the same thing in the street. People are fucking turning into monsters and eating other people. Two dead guys laying on the steps in front of the funeral home, laying there in their burial clothes, screeching, moaning, and wavin' their arms around. Kids running around screaming. Cars smashin' into stores. Some kind of fuckin' sickness. Couldn't get the fuck out of there fast enough.”

“Ramona heard rumours the other day about monsters,” Daryl said. “She didn't pay it too much mind, but now, maybe...”

“We know some people got spooked,” Clyde advised. “Had a run on supplies the other day, especially guns and ammo. Had to close up shop early, but no one's been by since.”

“Best put the rest of those guns and ammo outta sight,” Merle advised, “and every other weapon ya got in there too. There's some serious shit goin' down.”

Clyde looked at Daryl. “Merle and I'll go take care of that and lock down the place. You better get up to the cabin and do the same. Make sure you keep Ramona inside, and don't let her come down to the store by herself.”

*****

Daryl arrived at the cabin shortly afterwards and filled Ramona in on what Merle had to say. He also let her know that Merle was staying with Clyde and Bess.

“We should head to Atlanta, try to find out what's going on,” Daryl suggested. “Maybe get your aunt and uncle set up in the bunker tomorrow and leave the next morning. Take your uncle's truck camper.”

“I'm in,” Ramona agreed, “but what about Merle?”

“Merle can stay here, or bring my pick-up. He can take his bike for all I care, but he sure as hell ain't sleepin' with us.”

“Do you think we need all that though? Atlanta's only a couple a hundred miles away.”

“No tellin' what we're gonna run into. Look at the shit that went down in town. Could be blocked roads, mobs of panicked people, mobs of these... walking dead. Nowhere to get food, water, fuel. We'll need to bring all that shit, just in case.”

“I'll can get all that together tomorrow.”

Daryl nodded. “Getting dark. I'm gonna go nail the storm shutters on the windows... just in case.”

Ramona grabbed Daryl's crossbow off the sofa and followed him to the door.

“Where do ya think you're going?” he asked.

“I'm gonna come watch you nail the storm shutters on the windows... just in case.”

Daryl laughed and pointed at his crossbow, “and what do ya think you're gonna do with that?”

“I sure as fuck ain't gonna try shooting it,” Ramona replied, “but I can run it over to ya real quick!”

*****

_Day 12_

The following morning, Daryl left Ramona at the store while he went to check out the truck camper.

Ramona was behind the counter packing up some odds and ends into boxes when she heard Merle come thumping down the stairs.

Merle sauntered over to her. “Didn't get much of a look at ya last time I was in here, jailbait.

“Haven't been jailbait for years, Merle. I prefer 'Ramona', but 'hey you' works just as well.”

Merle gave her the once over. “I can sorta see why my brother might have a hankering for you though. Little plain lookin' for my likin', but you sure as shit suit him just fine.”

Ramona rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks,” she droned.

Merle peered over the counter and noticed Pup laying on the floor. “Should have known, that dumb-ass,” he muttered. “You should take that thing out and shoot it. They're spreading some disease and it acts quick.”

“Should have known what? What disease?”

“Didn't Daryl tell you about what's goin' on in town?”

“Well, yeah, but what does Pup have to do with that?”

“My friend got bit by a dog early yesterday morning and before the end of the day he turned into a fuckin' zombie, just the same as those two dead guys at the funeral home.”

“I doubt dogs had anything to do with that,” Ramona surmised. “Maybe your friend got bit by something else?”

Merle abruptly changed the subject. “So where is my brother anyway? I figured we'd head out to Atlant', maybe find out what the hell's going on.”

“He's not going to Atlanta with you,” Ramona stated point blank.

Merle laughed. “What... you think he's gonna hunker down in Clyde's bunker with y'all? Daryl can't live in a concrete tomb. The woods runs through his blood. He needs to be free.”

“I know he can't live like that, and I don't want him to,” Ramona declared. “He's out loading the camper onto the truck. We're leaving for Atlanta tomorrow. That's 'we' as in 'us' as in 'him and me'.”

“No 'we' there, sugar lips. You think you and my baby bro are travellin' a couple hundred miles with man eating walking dead fuckin' monsters wandering around? How the hell are you gonna help if he gets his ass into trouble? Stick your head out the goddamn window and ask the zombies to leave?”

“I can probably shoot better than you!” Ramona declared, “I'm not helpless!”

Merle chuckled. “Can ya take out movin' targets? Get 'em right in the eye? Fast with the blades?” Merle twisted his hands together for effect. “Can you snap a neck and rip off a head if needs be? I dunno what's out there, sweet cheeks, but I'm bettin' it's gonna be bad.”

“I can swing an axe. I've split firewood.” 'Granted, the logs weren't all that thick, but still', she thought.

Merle continued with his lecture. “Logs don't move, more likely chop off your own foot than a zombie head.” He paused for a moment. “Daryl don't need no distractions, and he don't need to be lookin' out for you darlin'. I'll keep him sharp. I'll keep him angry - the way he needs to be. Sometimes his balls needs a little tuggin', but that rightly fires him up for a fight.”

“That hasn't been my experience,” Ramona stated flatly.

“Nah, you'll just make him all soft and mushy like jelly,” Merle countered.

“That hasn't been my experience either.”

Merle scowled and leaned closer to her. “Ain't no fuckin' jelly gonna survive out there,” he said menacingly. “The only thing you're gonna do out there, Ra-mo-na, is get your Daryl killed.”

Merle abruptly turned about and marched for the door. The world was going crazy. The dead were eating the living. Merle didn't know what the hell was going on, but he did know that his odds for survival would only increase if his brother had his back. Merle slammed the door on his way out, and headed towards a narrow driveway at the side of the building. He followed the driveway up towards the woods and made a sharp right turn. Daryl was in front the garage, busy lowering a vintage white truck camper onto Clyde's big green pick-up truck.

Daryl heard his brother approaching and stopped lowering the jack. “What do you want?” he asked.

Merle scanned the hulking camper. “Jesus Christ, man, that thing's a goddamn antique! You ain't gonna be gettin' anywhere fast haulin' that weight.”

“It's in good shape,” Daryl explained. “No leaks, stored under cover.”

“So your little bed warmer taggin' along with ya, gonna find out what the hell's going on...” 

“Her name's Ramona, and yeah.”

“Did you even listen to a goddamn thing I said last night?” Merle asked. “Open you eyes, boy, this ain't gonna be no lovers weekend at the lake. Leave her here. I'll go with ya. Better two grown men than a man and his, what the hell do you call those things... albatross.”

'Yeah, right, grown men,' Daryl thought.

Merle pointed towards the woods. “Clyde's got a bunker out there somewhere ya know. Weapons, food, water. Shit, he's even got himself a generator. I'm bettin' we'll be fightin' for our lives killin' those things all the way to Atlant'. Your little lovebird can be all warm and safe right up there on Easy Street. Yup. She'll be readin' her books and eatin' all that freeze-dried stew and shit.” Merle paused for a moment. “What the fuck do you think those doomsday bunkers were built for anyway?”

Daryl just stared at his brother.

“You know she don't belong out there, those things are gonna need killin'.”

Daryl was adamant. “I'll do the killing, if it comes to that,” he declared.

Merle snickered. “Killing her most likely, bro. You gonna fight off those things with your little sweetheart standing next to you?”

“You know I can... and you know I will.”

“Oh, I know what you can do if needs be,” Merle admitted, “but I'm bettin' she don't know yet.”

“Learnin' about each other's a process, Merle, and we haven't gotten that far yet.”

“Ya really want her seein' you splittin' zombie heads 'till their brains pour out and their blood's splattered all over your mug? You want her to see you all brutal and bloody when she barely knows a lick about ya ?” Merle shook his head. “You gotta leave her here.” Merle swung around and headed back down the driveway, making a point to shout back at Daryl, “I'll come see ya in the morn' in case you come to your fuckin' senses!”

*****

Just as Ramona finished packing and taping the last box, Merle came back into the store. He didn't acknowledge her at all, just stomped up the stairs to the second floor.

Ramona shoved the cardboard box under the counter and went outside to talk to Daryl. She arrived in time to see him spin around and violently throw the crank handle on the ground.

Ramona flinched. “I'm guessing you talked to Merle,” she said.

Daryl didn't speak, he just gave a simple nod.

Ramona walked over to him and hugged him, but he wouldn't look her in the eye. “Your brother's an asshole,” she said, “but you know he's right. I won't be of any help to you if things get bad, I'll only be a burden.” She cupped Daryl's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I won't be your burden,” she declared. “Your brother's tough. He'll keep you alive, and I want you alive.”

“I was just cutting loose from all that shit,” Daryl groaned. “I know I'm not good with him. Shit, I'm not even me with him. I'm just a fucking illusion.”

Ramona spoke gently, “Uncle Clyde would say you're 'light switch on' when Merle's around you, all wild and fiery.”

“Fuck, I hate this,” Daryl moaned.

Ramona put her arms around him and they held each other. She forced herself to stay strong and not resort to tears. “I hate it too, love, but there's nothing else for it.” She stayed in his arms until he unceremoniously released her.

“I'm gonna finish this camper up anyway,” Daryl said. “I'll pack her up with everything we were going to take, then I'll run her up to the old logging road by the range, in case you have to get out of here. Whatever Merle and I need can go in my truck with the bike.”

Ramona nodded her understanding. “I have a few things to finish up in the bunker,” she said. “I'll meet you back at the cabin later.”

Daryl went to work attaching the tie-back straps and tightening the turnbuckles.


	8. One Heart

  
Daryl arrived back at the cabin late in the day to find Ramona sound asleep on the sofa. The sound of the door closing roused her from her nap and she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I told Merle I'd go with him,” Daryl said.

Ramona nodded her understanding.

Daryl went over to the sofa, sat down next to her, and put his arm around her. “You must have been tired,” he said.

“More tired than I thought, I guess. Had some weird ass dreaming going on there. Dreamt you went on an important journey.”

“I am going on a journey.”

“No. It was more than that. It was almost like some kind of quest, and it was important that you be there. You were ready for it and you *had* to be there. A lot of people needed you, they depended on you.”

“Yup, obviously a dream,” Daryl surmised.

“Felt so real. It's fading away from me now, but it just felt so real. I saw your third face. We were together. We were one person, and our heart was crying.”

Daryl noticed a wash of tears suddenly flooding down her face. “Jesus, you are crying,” he said.

Ramona reached up to touch her cheeks. She was surprised to feel them warm and very wet. “That's unsettling,” she muttered.

Daryl dried away her tears with his shirt. “I don't know how long I'll be gone,” he said. “Couple of weeks, couple of months, maybe longer. I only know that I'll be back.”

“I have faith in you,” Ramona confessed. “I'll be here waiting.”

“I need to know you're going to be safe. If those things end up here...”

“I'll be careful. Don't worry about me, I'm safe here. Uncle Clyde won't let anything happen to me or Aunt Bess, even if he has to lock us down for the duration. I am worried for you though, even with Merle.”

“I'll be fine, honey. I can take care of myself. Just another predator, right?”

“Yeah, a dangerous one. Especially cuz we don't know anything about it.”

“I'll treat them like injured hogs... with shorter teeth. Cheer up. You want something to eat, I'm sure I've got something in the fridge.”

“Not hungry,” Ramona replied. “I just want your arms around me until you leave tomorrow.”

“Easier than making dinner,” Daryl said. He stood up, took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Come on to bed, love, you'll have all of me around you until tomorrow.”

*****

_Day 13_

Neither Daryl nor Ramona got much sleep the night before, as sleep would have made their last night together much shorter. She spent much of the night in tears, and he spent much of the night comforting her with love and reassuring words. He was a rugged man, but even he succumbed to sorrow more than once. Somehow, the morning light shining through the window helped both of them to get on with what had to be done. They packed up the few remaining groceries in a box, then Daryl accompanied Ramona to the bunker. Her aunt, uncle and Pup were already below, while Merle was waiting in the truck down by the store.

Daryl set down his own bag and his crossbow. “Stay here a minute while I take the box down and say goodbye to everyone.”

Ramona nodded.

Daryl emerged from the bunker a few minutes later. “Come on over here,” he said. “I want to show you something.” He led Ramona a few feet into the woods to a big oak tree.

Ramona looked at the tree and started crying.

“Jesus, honey, it wasn't supposed to make you cry,” Daryl said.

“They're not tears of sadness,” Ramona said. “I love it, and I love you.” Daryl had carved the textbook heart in the tree, and the letters 'DD loves RB'. Ramona traced the initials and word with her finger. “Thank you,” she said.

Daryl laughed. “Always wanted to do that, just never had a reason to before.” He lowered his head and kissed Ramona, then hugged her hard. “I will be back,” he vowed.

“I know you will.”

Daryl walked her back to the bunker door, kissed her again, and waited until she got down the steps before he closed the door. Then he headed down to the store parking lot where Merle was waiting in the truck.

*****

“Jesus, bro, what the fuck took you so long?” Merle asked.

Daryl tossed his stuff into the truck bed next to Merle's bike, then climbed into the passenger seat. “Had to say goodbye.”

Merle started up the truck and headed down the driveway. “Thought you woulda' done that last night,” he taunted, “you need some lessons or somethin'?”

“Christ, Merle, please don't fuck me around over this. Ain't no little thing.”

Merle hadn't even gotten halfway down the driveway when he noticed Daryl staring longingly into the side mirror. Merle hit the brakes hard. “Alright,” he said. “I ain't gonna give any more bullshit over this, and I ain't gonna mention it again. I know what it's like when a woman gets into you like that, but right now, you gotta stop looking in that fuckin' mirror and shut all that shit down. It'll just make you weak, and you gotta be strong.”

Daryl transferred his gaze to the windshield and simply sat quiet for a minute.

“So ya ready or what?” Merle finally asked.

Daryl punched the dashboard hard with his fist. “Fuck it,” he said, “just drive.”

*****

_Day 16_

Atlanta Falls.


	9. Where She Lives

_Day 390_

Ramona was sitting on the bench on the cabin porch, the roof above protecting her from the fine rain that had been coming down all morning. Rain always freshened the forest, and the mist was light enough that she could still hear and see everything around her. She and Pup came and sat here often, especially for the first few weeks after Daryl left. That was over a year ago, three hundred and seventy-seven days, the loneliest three hundred and seventy-seven days of her life. 

Her aunt once swore that Daryl wouldn't be back, but her uncle insisted that he would, that he had an honourable heart and wouldn't leave Ramona in the lurch. He said the only way that Daryl wouldn't return, would be if he was dead. Ramona thought about that this day, as she did every day. She had no photograph of Daryl, but she could remember every detail of him.

Pup suddenly started thumping his tail wildly on the wooden deck and focusing on a particular spot in the woods. He didn't growl. Ramona turned her head to see a lone figure in a grey hooded cloak emerge from the treeline. Pup tore off the porch at lightning speed and raced towards it. Ramona rose to her feet but couldn't move. After all the months that she'd waited for this moment, it was finally here.

Daryl saw a much larger Pup running towards him, and he saw Ramona standing on the porch of his cabin. The fear that had plagued his mind all these long months finally melted away.

Ramona couldn't yet see his face, but she knew it was Daryl. She could tell by his walk, by the crossbow slung over his shoulder, and by the way he now reached down to play with Pup, who was jumping and circling him. Ramona's legs felt wobbly. A few shaky steps emboldened her and she ran to him, straight into his arms. He held her and kissed her, and they both started to cry, but they were happy tears. The first words Daryl spoke were, “Why are you out here alone?”

“I'm not alone, Pup's with me,” Ramona replied.

Daryl kissed her again and spoke softly, “I've missed you. Sorry I was away so long, but this was the first chance I had to leave. The world out there, it's crazy. Insane.”

“I've been mostly spared, but I've heard awful stories,” Ramona admitted. “I've been so worried for you.” Daryl's eyes looked tired and disheartened, but there was a resolve in them that wasn't there before.

“I have stories to tell you too,” Daryl told her, “but later, not now. Now is for us.”

Ramona brushed the hair away from Daryl's face. “Your hair's so long it tickles,” she teased. She ran her fingers through the whiskers on his chin. “And you're so... scruffy.”

Daryl grinned. “Low maintenance, hon. You don't like it?”

“You know I'm a low maintenance gal, but low maintenance looks way better on you than it does on me.”

“Love your face as it is,” Daryl said. “Why would I want to kiss wax and powder when I can kiss you? Not into masks, hon. If I wanted to make love to a raccoon, I'd find one in the woods.”

Ramona giggled. “You're sweet, but if you want to make love at all, we better get indoors.”

“Many walkers around here?” Daryl asked, as they headed for the cabin.

“Few and far between. Haven't seen any for over a week, and Pup's a great early warning system.”

Daryl opened the door to the cabin and Pup scrambled between them and rushed inside. He jumped up on the sofa and curled himself up comfortably. The windows were still shuttered and the only light inside was what came through the front door.

“I'll get the light,” Ramona said as she walked over to the counter where the lantern sat. She pulled a box of matches from the top drawer, struck one and slipped it up into the lamp before turning the knob to open the propane. A loud hiss, a instant of flame, and the mantel was lit. Ramona adjusted the lantern to a moderate light while Daryl unloaded his gear on the table and removed his cloak and boots. He closed the door.

Ramona was perplexed when she approached Daryl. He had suddenly become awkwardly tense. She thought he needed to tell her something, but he was hesitating. “You wanna talk?” she asked.

“I do, and I have a lot to share with you, but... later.” Daryl put his arms around her, kissed her long and deep, and led her to the dimly lit bedroom at the back of the cabin.

Daryl seemed to be moving unusually fast. His kisses were urgent. They undressed each other at a heated pace and quickly dropped into the bed. Daryl held her firmly beneath him, and his kisses grew even more desperate. He seemed overwhelmed by love, suffering, and stress in equal measure. His thrusts were urgent and forceful, and an involuntary whimper passed Ramona's lips.

“Sorry,” Daryl whispered.

“I'm not a china doll, love. I've got you,” Ramona whispered back.

Ramona kept pace with Daryl as best she could, and when he'd finished, she simply held the side of his face to her breast and soothingly stroked his hair. She could feel his silent tears trickling warm on her skin. She held him like that for a time, until he finally rolled over on to his back. He slipped his arm underneath her to cradle her head on his chest.

“Merle's gone,” he said sombrely. “My brother's dead. He turned. I had to finish him. I stabbed him in the face. I couldn't stop. Kept stabbing him. He tortured my friends, my family. I told him I wanted my brother back and he said my brother was gone. Gone. That's what happens out there. People change. The good get better, the bad get worse, the rest get... dead.”

Daryl paused for a moment before continuing his narrative, “Carol changed. She was weak and became a warrior. She's a good friend, I can talk to her. She had a little girl, Sophia. Sophia got lost. I searched and searched. I almost got bit, but Merle's vision saved me. Sophia got turned. Carol was a mess. Rick had to shoot Sophia in the head. He stepped up without any hesitation and did what had to be done. I knew at that moment he was a real leader. Merle tried to redeem himself in the end. He set Michonne free and tried to kill the governor. Merle was tougher than me, but I'm still here and he's not. So much death.”

Ramona had no idea who he was talking about besides Merle, but Daryl needed someone to listen to what he held inside. She just lay quietly cradled in his arms, gently stroking his chest, and listened to more spoken thoughts than she'd ever heard him utter at one time. Then, after a very long silence, he finally spoke to her.

“I'm sorry about... earlier,” Daryl apologized.

“I could listen to you talk forever, hon. I love your voice.”

“Not that... the other thing.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Ramona reassured him. “You've been in overdrive for a year. Revving down's a process. Just lay here still. Talk if you want, sleep when you can.”

Daryl fell asleep quickly, and after an hour or so had passed, Ramona slipped out from beneath his arm and got up to get dressed. She pulled on her jeans and teeshirt and walked towards the door as quietly as she could, but Daryl's highly tuned senses woke him.

“Where ya going?” he asked.

“I've been topside awhile, I better go see my aunt and uncle before they come looking for me. I'll just let them know that you're home and that we'll be down to see them in the morning. I'll bring back some food and coffee, and something for Pup.”

Daryl moved to the edge of the bed and pulled on his own jeans. “Wait, I'll come with you,” he said.

“I'll be fine,” Ramona told him. “I'll grab my stabbing stick, it's on the porch.”

Daryl followed her and retrieved his crossbow from the table. “I'll cover you from the porch anyway,” he said, “and take Dog with you.”

“Dog?” 

“Well, ya haven't given him a real name yet, and he's too big to be called Pup.”

Ramona glanced down at the dog. “I guess you have a point there,” she said. “Dog it is.” 

*****

_Day 391_

Daryl had a restless night's sleep and woke well before dawn. He was more relaxed now, and opened up to Ramona about his experiences, his pain, and his fears during the past year. He told her things, and asked her what she thought of things. He was quiet for awhile, and then he said, “Let me make up for last night.” 

Ramona turned and kissed his cheek. “There's nothing for you to make up for,” she insisted. She swung her body around and knelt over him while keeping all of her weight on her hands and knees. Ramona lowered her face to his and gently kissed his lips. “You've taken care of everyone else for so long, love,” she whispered, “let me take care of you. Accept, relax, and enjoy.” She kissed him again. “You understand what I'm saying?”

“I have a handle on it, hon.”

“Good. If there's anything you don't like, let me know. Books don't tell you everything.”

Daryl twirled a strand of her hair. “Just what kind of books were ya readin' while I was away?”

Ramona blushed and spoke softly, “You were gone a long time.”

Daryl let go of her hair and brushed her lips with his own. “Sweetheart, there's nothing you could do to me that I wouldn't like.”

Ramona kissed his ear. “Love you,” she whispered, “I'll take over from here.”

*****

It was mid morning by the time Daryl and Ramona were ready to visit the bunker. They'd slept for a couple of hours and then taken Dog out for a run.

Daryl had no concerns about spending a few hours underground. After some of the places Rick's group had hunkered down in, and after traversing prison tunnels and living in a prison, spending time in the bunker didn't seem like such a big deal after all.

Clyde and Bess were sitting at the table when Daryl, Ramona and Dog arrived. Clyde stood and welcomed Daryl with a handshake. Bess gave him a big smile as she went over to the stove and put the kettle on.

“I know y'all have lots of questions, but Daryl's gotta get cleaned up first,” Ramona told them. 

“Yes, your clothes are a little ripe there,” Bess offered. “Go have a shower. Ramona will get you something to wear. We have a big box of extra clothes back there. Bess waved a hand at Daryl. She'll get those clothes cleaned right up for you.”

Daryl nodded, and Ramona led him down the hallway, past the bedrooms, and into the storage area where the bathroom was. She pointed out a big cardboard box that was sitting on the shelf. “Should be something in there that'll fit you.”

Daryl rummaged through the clothes until he found a dark blue shirt, some socks and jeans. Then he noticed Ramona was taking off her clothes.

“Uhm... what are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm having a shower with you.”

“But your aunt and uncle are right up the hall!”

“I need one too. They won't mind. We're saving water!”

“Yeah, but... right up the hall? And you have an endless supply of water here.”

“Not an endless supply of *hot* water. Gotta watch the propane use, and it's not like they don't know what we do over there in your cabin. Geez.” Ramona reached up and mussed with Daryl's hair. “Besides, you need someone to wash all that, right?”

“Well, you better be quiet,” Daryl said.

“Why? Walkers won't hear us down here.”

“No singing in the shower,” Daryl insisted.

“I trust you'll find a way to shut me up.” Ramona shot back. 

Daryl smirked. “Jesus, are you hungry again already?”

“Shut up asshole,” she quipped, pushing him towards the bathroom. 

*****

Bess had tea, muffins and canned fruit out on the table when Daryl and Ramona arrived back in the kitchen. They sat down across from Clyde and Bess.

“Feels so normal,” Daryl commented. “It's not like this out there anymore.”

“Not really like this here, either, Daryl,” Clyde admitted, “not without a lot of sacrifice and co-operation in the community.”

Daryl was confused. “What community?” he asked.

“The other bunkers,” Clyde answered. “We've got at least thirty families connected as far as I can tell. No one really knows exactly where the others are unless they're blood connected, but we keep in touch. We have meet-up locations. If you need something, are having walker or people problems, just get to one of those spots and stick around. Someone always comes by eventually. Set the system up years ago for those interested. Started out slow, but working pretty well now as more and more of us connect with each other. We've got some good fighters, good providers, good people. We've taken in stragglers, taken in children whose parents disappeared, traded and shared supplies.” 

“Ramona never mentioned anything about that,” Daryl remarked.

“Just never got around to it yet,” Ramona chirped.

“I don't doubt that,” Bess muttered under her breath.

“Our underground *is* underground,” Clyde explained. “Some of them are pretty organized too. They'll actually go out searching for walkers, just to stay sharp.”

Daryl grew agitated and stared at Ramona. “You're not out there fighting, are you?” he asked.

“She's killed the odd one topside,” Clyde piped in, “but no, she doesn't go out with the group... Ramona lacks focus.”

“That means she's a bit of a klutz,” Bess offered.

Daryl continued staring at Ramona, wanting to hear it from her own mouth. 

“No, I don't go out fighting,” she said. “I know my limitations.”

Daryl glanced at Clyde. “Ramona says the walkers aren't too bad around here,” he said.

“We're better off than most I think,” Clyde admitted. “The sickness didn't seem to affect our area as badly as others. Don't know why, but for about forty miles in any direction the original death count was very low. There were people from the government here after you left. They were doing tests and taking samples of everything - dirt, water, plants. Heard rumours they even took some people, but we never heard anything more after that.”

“A lot of families around here are fairly intact,” Bess added, “so the change hasn't affected us as badly.” She glanced at Daryl. “How about you tell us what you've been up to, son,” she asked.

Daryl spent well over an hour detailing his past year, beginning with stories of how he and Merle had started running into blocked roads and detours the very day they left. He told them about the Atlanta camp, what Rick had learned at the CDC, the walker overrun at the farm, the hungry months of scavenging, finding the prison, Lori's death and Judith's birth, Michonne's arrival, and the prison attack. Daryl ensured that Clyde knew Merle was acting heroically when he died. Daryl finished his story at the point where several members from the Woodbury group joined the prison group.

“That's when I left,” he said. “The prison's still in danger, but they have a lot more bodies now and I knew we had some time. The Governor will have to regroup if he decides to attack again.”

“So you say there's a baby there now, at the prison?” Bess asked.

“Judith. I thought Lil' Asskicker would fit, but the poor kid got stuck with Judith.”

“Did you hold her?” Bess asked, shooting a glance at Ramona.

“I did. Fed her a bottle too.”

Ramona glared at her aunt. “I know where you're going with this,” she said. “He already knows I can't give him children.” A few involuntary tears slipped from her eyes and Daryl grasped her hand.

“Kids ain't in my plans,” Daryl said. “Tough enough looking after ourselves in this world. It ain't no world for kids anymore.”

Clyde gently poked Dog with his foot and Dog started moving around. “I think Pup needs to go out for a run,” Clyde said.

“Oh, his name's Dog now, Uncle Clyde,” Ramona advised. “Daryl thinks he's too big to be called Pup.”

“He is that,” Clyde agreed. “Why don't you two settle in over at the cabin and spend the day together. Maybe Daryl and I can track down a deer tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I could use a little normal,” Daryl said. He and Ramona stood up to leave.

“You wanna leave Pup...ah... Dog here?” Clyde asked.

“He'll come with us,” Daryl said. “I'll string up some wire and tin around the cabin, but he'll let us know if any trouble comes.”

“Hold up a minute,” Bess blurted out. She fetched a black tote bag from the sofa and handed it to Daryl. “Got a flashlight, some food, coffee and things here to get you through the night. Ramona can fetch more supplies from the storage room tomorrow.”

*****

_Day 392_

Daryl escorted Ramona and Dog down to the bunker early in the morning. Clyde was already waiting for him, dressed in full-out camo, including a cap. He had an old 303 slung over his shoulder, a box of shells bulging from his shirt pocket, and a set of knives strapped to his belt. 

The rifle somehow looked familiar to Daryl, but he couldn't place it. “Won't need the gun,” he said, “too much noise.”

Clyde winked. “She's my good luck piece. Emergency use only.” He reached over to the chair behind him and grabbed another camo jacket that he passed on to Daryl. “Here, this should fit,” he said.

Ramona stayed behind in the bunker with Bess while the rest set off on their hunting trip.

*****

Daryl and Clyde had just passed the target range when Clyde struck up a conversation. He kept his voice low and his eye on Dog in case trouble neared. “Tell me about Rick, must be a very dedicated man to get everyone through all that.”

“He was a sheriff before all the shit went down,” Daryl explained. “Cool as ice under pressure. Have to respect that. I was an out of control asshole. Held a gun to my head more than once. He had this... I dunno... strength. Kept me in line, turned me around. Lost his shit when his wife died, but found his way back.”

“And you stayed all this time with his group. There's loyalty there.”

“Lost one brother, got another one.”

“Looks like you got what you needed out there.”

“The rest of them too - they're willing to fight and die for others, even for me. You can't walk away from that shit.”

“So you're going back?”

“Have to, can't walk away right yet. Rick understands why I left, why I had to get back here. He's the only one that knows. It's easier that way.”

Daryl stopped walking and Clyde followed suit.

“I have faith in the man,” Daryl confessed. “He's determined. Got us through hell, through long winter months. Organized us with precision. He's smart and strategic.” Daryl suddenly heard rustling at the edge of the woods and readied his crossbow. “Hogs,” he whispered.

“Ramona won't eat that, but there's others' will,” Clyde whispered, “long as it's cooked up real well.”

Daryl lowered his crossbow. “Why's that?”

“You know why you don't see any dead walkers around here?”

“Ya don't burn 'em?”

“Don't have to. The hogs eat 'em. Then the possums go for the bones.”

Daryl shrugged. “Guess I won't be bringing any possum home either.” 

“Ramona just hasn't experienced hunger yet,” Clyde explained. “She doesn't get it. I hope she never does, but...”

“Yeah. I know. Let's go find a deer, they're an easier shot anyway.”

*****

_Day 405_

Daryl was sitting on the bench in front of his cabin thinking about his last two weeks here. He had gone hunting with Clyde a few times, taught Dog some new commands, and tried to teach Ramona some walker defence tactics to use if she was ever caught with more than she could handle. Sadly, Daryl came to accept that Ramona's aunt was right, Ramona was a klutz. 

His most meaningful moments were the intimate ones he shared with Ramona. He could feel her love washing over him with every word she spoke and with every touch of her hand, and he knew she felt the same way about him. He also realized that if he was the same man he was a year earlier, he would have thought only of himself and just stayed here. But he wasn't the same man, and in two days, he would be heading back to help out his friends.

Suddenly Ramona was shaking his shoulder. “Hello... earth to Daryl... I have a cold beer here for you,” she said.

“Sorry, zoned out there,” Daryl said, accepting the bottle from her. “Sure you don't wanna try out the bow when I'm done this?” he asked.

“Sorry, love. I suck at those,” Ramona admitted. My clumsy fingers will get caught and pinched. I have an old one I can use, but I can't trust myself carrying it around loaded. I have to put it to ground to draw and I'd be dead by the time I got an arrow off. I can make do with my spear and my knives, and I always have my P226 with me for a real emergency, that is, any time you're not out here with me. I'll show it to you later. Uncle Clyde gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. It's chambered for nine mil, and it's an original Sig, not the Chinese replica, PN, NP, number something, I don't remember, whatever the hell they call it. Anyway, she's a sweet piece. I wish I could just pick off those bastard walkers. The one thing I'm really good at, and it's too frickin' noisy.”

“You're ramblin' on about hardware again, honey,” Daryl said.

“Sorry. Anyway, Uncle Clyde told me I'm better suited to offence. Camouflage, climbing and such. I have two homemade ghillie blankets in the storage room. Still trying to figure out how to sleep in a tree without hauling a hammock around everywhere though.”

Daryl listened to her, but shouting against her words were those of others, others who thought that people who couldn't fight hand to hand didn't even deserve to survive. It never really fazed him all the times that he'd heard it, but here, listening to her and applying that cruel ideology, it broke his heart. He stood up and put his arms around her.

“What's this for?” Ramona asked.

Daryl held her even tighter. “I don't care if you fight or how well you fight as long as you stay alive,” he said. “If you have to hide or climb trees to do that, that's what you do.”

Dog suddenly growled. Daryl let go of Ramona and spun around. Two figures lumbered out of the treeline, one tall, one very short.

Ramona gasped. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

Daryl drew his bow and let one arrow fly, then another. “Yup.”

“Haven't dealt with that yet,” Ramona said.

“You're gonna deal with it now, hon. Got to. It ain't a kid anymore. Hasn't been a kid since it turned.” Grab your spear and come on.” He told Dog to stay and then led Ramona to the two bodies. He pulled his arrows from the walkers' faces. “You know what you have to do,” he said. “Best do it now, while I'm here.”

Ramona reluctantly held the spear over the small walker's face. It was once a little girl with black hair. It was wearing torn yellow slippers and yellow pyjamas.

“Ya gotta do it,” Daryl said.

Ramona meekly stabbed her spear down into the remaining eye.

“Fuck, put some effort into it, Ramona,” Daryl ordered.

Daryl made her jab those eyes three more times, each time more forceful than the last.

Ramona started to falter.

“Stay focused,” Daryl demanded. “There could be more. Look around and listen. No lettin' up 'til you know you're clear.”

Ramona followed his directives, and when she knew that they were safe, she grabbed his hand and let him lead her back to the cabin. She was openly sobbing by the time they sat down on the bench. Ramona reached into Daryl's pocket, pulled out his smokes and lit one. She took a deep drag. “I'm sorry about the crying,” she said. “I know it's stupid, but I've never even seen a little one before.”

Daryl put his arm around her shoulders. “You wouldn't be you if you didn't cry about it,” he said. “The more you keep shit like that locked up inside, the harder it is to deal with later. It's just me here, sweetheart, you can cry your heart out if you wanna.”

*****

_Day 407_

Daryl woke just after dawn, and Ramona still lay sleeping soundly next to him. He had spent over two weeks with her, but now it was time to head back to the prison, both literally and figuratively. He had said his goodbyes to Bess, Clyde, and Dog the night before when he and Ramona took their remaining supplies down into the bunker. Ramona had fetched the clothes he had worn here, now all clean. The temporary wire fence around the cabin was down, rolled up, and hidden under a pile of leaves at the back of the building. 

Daryl had managed to help Ramona improve some of her skills, but she really did have her limitations. Still, he felt comfortable leaving her here, a far safer place than anywhere he'd been since the world collapsed. As long as it remained secure, their food supply was assured for the next few years. 

The trip here took eight days on Merle's bike, his bike now. Avoiding walkers, avoiding people, and having to get off the road and walk the bike through the woods on several occasions were to blame. The time stretch led to more problems, like needing more food and water than he'd brought with him. He knew the route to take back though, and he'd left some supplies and gas in a couple of spots, so he expected to make it back to the prison much faster.

Ramona suddenly stirred, and Daryl's thoughts instantly turned to her. It would be his last time with her for awhile, and he wanted to remember every moment of it. He turned onto his side to face her, and was surprised to find her already looking at him. “You're awake,” he whispered.

“I am,” she replied.

Daryl moved his body snugly to hers, and she rewarded him with a gentle kiss on his lips. “Still in love with you,” he confessed.

Ramona spoke softly, “Still in love with you,” she said.

Daryl's finger traced a line down her arm. The power of his touch on her still mesmerized him. A gentle touch of his finger anywhere on her body and her skin would tremble and sprout goosebumps.

Ramona smiled. “Are you mapping again, love? I think you already have the entire nation surveyed.”

“I am and I do,” Daryl replied, “and you're not the one to talk.”

“But you know I have a piss poor sense of direction,” Ramona whispered in his ear. She planted soft kisses across his face to his lips, the prelude to their last round of lovemaking and pillow talk before he finally had to leave.

*****

Two hours later, Daryl was dressed and ready to accompany Ramona to the bunker.

“Feel's like the slow march to hell,” Ramona lamented as they slowly walked towards the bunker.

Daryl tried to keep her spirits up. “Come on, babe, Bess and Clyde aren't that bad. I have to deal with annoying teenagers and a cryin' baby.”

By the time they arrived by the bunker, Ramona was in full tear mode. She turned to Daryl. “I'm going to miss you terribly, you do know that don't you?”

“I know, hon. Gonna miss you as much.” He walked her over to their tree and held her to his chest for several minutes as she sobbed. “I have to go now, hon, or you'll get me crying and I won't be able to leave,” he finally said.

“I know. I'm sorry.” Ramona loosened her grip on him and watched as he disappeared into the trees.

“I love you!” she shouted after him.

Even through his tears, Daryl felt a renewed sense of spirit as he travelled through the woods towards where he'd hidden the bike. Ramona's love had always been a steady comfort through his most desperate times, and he knew there would be more of those desperate times to come. Merle couldn't have been more wrong though, Daryl thought. Love didn't make him weaker at all, it made him stronger.


	10. I Never Wanted That Life

_Day 716_

It took Daryl twenty-six days to make his second trip back to Ramona. Alexandria was much further away than the prison was. He remembered the trip to Virginia, it was a trip that Beth planned on taking with Noah. After her death, the others decided to do it anyway. Most of all, Daryl remembered the anxiety he felt that each mile they drove was a mile further away from Ramona.

Daryl checked out the store first, as he did the last time, but this time it had clearly been ransacked. He sped up the hill to the bunker, brushed away the debris from the hatch, and knocked twice. Moments later, he heard the slide bolt unlocking the door. Daryl lifted the door a few inches and Dog suddenly started whining from below. Ramona set her gun back down on the table and started climbing the stairs. Daryl opened the door and Ramona practically flew out and grabbed him in a bear hug. Dog followed and danced around Daryl. 

“Hey, honey,” Daryl said.

“Hasn't even been a year yet!” Ramona squealed.

They held and kissed each other until Dog finally demanded Daryl's attention. “Hey there boy,” he said as he leaned down to scratch Dog's ears. Dog shortly ran off and took the opportunity to pee.

“Everything good here?” Daryl asked.

“It's been good. Better now that you're home. Come on in.”

Daryl whistled for Dog and they all went down into the bunker, closing and locking the door behind them. Daryl glanced around, worried. “Where's your aunt and uncle?” he asked.

“They're fine. They're spending a couple of days with Aunt Bess's sister, Alma, and her husband. They have a place a couple of miles away.”

“They left you here alone?”

“I'm good, hon, and they had an escort over there and they'll have one back. The store's a meet up place for that, so it's convenient. You look tired and hungry. Get your stuff off and go sit. I'll get you a beer and something to eat.”

Daryl unloaded his gear and took off his boots. He laid down on his back on the sofa. “Don't need none of that,” he said, “just need some calm love, hon.”

Ramona knew what he wanted. That was his term for simple comfort. She went over to the sofa and climbed on top of him, then slid as much as she could towards the back of the sofa so she was only partly covering him. She rested her head on his chest, and he rested his hand on her hair, stroking it. He was quiet for a long time, before he finally started to speak.

“It's been a rough time,” he said, “way worse than before. People at the prison got sick, then we got attacked and spread out. I killed Maggie's little sister, Beth. Only sixteen when I met her, and dead just over a year later. Made me believe for a time there was more good in the world than I thought. Got me drinkin' one night and I told her things about my past that I've never told anyone but you, not the worst of it though. Still, helped me put a dagger in some of that shit when we burned down the house. Idealistic teenager. Should have fuckin' known. Then I killed her.”

“She turned?”

“No, but I killed her all the same. She was playing the piano and singin'. Beautiful voice.” Daryl tapped Ramona's head twice. “Nothing like yours,” he said. “Wasn't thinking, too much time safe in the prison I guess. Should have told her to stop. Should have known the walkers would come. Nothin' for it but stupid. Can't be stupid out there. Mistakes get people killed.”

“That's not your fault,” Ramona offered, “the danger wasn't on her radar either.”

“She was a fuckin' kid, I should have been looking out for her. I told her to run to the highway. And then she gets fuckin' kidnapped. Fuck. First time I had innocent blood on my hands, killed one of our own. I was a mess for awhile. Carol told me I had to let it out. Had to fuckin' burn my own hand to do that, and I deserved it. Anyway, after the pricks and the cannibals, the group got back together. Had a good plan to get her back, but she ended up dead anyway. She'd be alive right now if she didn't take a fuckin' pair of scissors to a gunfight. Can't be stupid out there. Mistakes get people killed.” 

“You don't have any blood on your hands if she got herself killed,” Ramona said.

“After she disappeared, I hooked up with the pricks, claimers. Stupid. We ran into Rick, Michonne and Carl. They were gonna rape Michonne and the kid, then kill us all. A couple of 'em were gettin' the best of me when Rick got off a shot, tore out a throat, gave us a chance to fight back.”

“So Beth's disappearance led you to Rick, Michonne, and Carl. Look at it that way hon, the only mistakes you made probably saved three other friends from a gruesome end.”

“Somewhere in between that shit and trying to rescue Beth, we end up as prisoners to fucking cannibals. Jesus, they ate people. Had human body parts hangin'. Carol saved all our asses. Got to Alexandria three weeks later. Goddamn la-la land. People had no clue what it's like on the outside, no caution, no defence. 'Civilized'. Jesus. What bullshit is that? Rick had to take over the place just to keep everyone alive. The world's fucked and we're all in purgatory.” Daryl tapped Ramona's head again. “Got a nice bike there though, so wasn't all bad.”

“So, your group's still there, in Alexandria?”

“Yup. Much safer now, but had problems with a group, called themselves Saviors. Their leader, Negan, liked bashin'...” Daryl suddenly stopped talking and planted a kiss on Ramona's head. “No way, hon, that's all my burden. I ain't puttin' that picture in your head. Got one of those deaths on me too, and I think on it everyday. Fuck. Had to face his wife. Had no problem shedding tears over that death that day. Negan had me in a torture cell for days until I finally got free with some help. Found some other communities with good people though. I fought. I killed a lot of people, hon, some weigh a little heavy. Finally got together and crushed the bastard. And then what happens? Rick puts the prick in jail instead of putting a bullet in his head. What the fuck? I dunno, maybe Rick's head was messed up cuz his son, Carl, died. His head's been messed up before.”

“That's why you left?” Ramona asked.

“Stuck around a couple more months. Didn't get better. So, yeah, I left.”

Daryl soon fell into a troubled sleep. He tossed and turned, and spoke garbled words. At one point he almost threw Ramona to the floor, so she got up and put a blanket over him. After that, she drank a cup of tea and fell asleep in a chair.

*****

Daryl wasn't in the bunker when Ramona woke the next morning. She set the percolator up for coffee and put it on the stove, then went outside. Daryl was sitting on the bench over at the cabin watching Dog run around, and Ramona sat down next to him.

“They want the world they used to have,” Daryl said. “They want towns, neighbours, rules, and fuckin' dinner parties. I don't want none of that shit, never did. Feel like my life's being erased, like when I was with Merle.” Daryl pointed towards the woods. “I just wanna live free,” he said. “That's the world I want. I can't have it here because of monsters, living and dead. But maybe, just maybe, if we go north, far north, where there ain't so many of either, a man could manage. There would be good people there too, just wouldn't always be hangin' around standin' three feet away from you.”

Daryl suddenly lifted his crossbow, sighted in, and fired an arrow off. He scanned the area for several minutes. “Looks like a loner,” he said. He put his crossbow back on the bench and put an arm around Ramona. “I'm going to stay here awhile,” he said. “Maybe a long time. Maybe forever.”

Ramona didn't respond. As much as she wished that would happen, she knew Daryl cared about those he left behind and that he'd want to make sure they'd get by without him before a final departure. For now though, he just had to work through his guilt, and his anger.

“I can do good here,” Daryl continued. “Work with your fighters, your hunters.”

“Yeah, you could do that,” Ramona said.

*****

_Day 1051_

Daryl had spent over ten months working with the Underground. It was an interesting setup for a community. They were relatively safe and had no fear that the entire community could be decimated in one swoop. Families had vegetable gardens, but they were always well away from the bunkers and hidden in the woods, the way marijuana crops used to be. 

When he had first started working with them, Daryl was surprised there were so few women out fighting like they were in the Virginia communities. Clyde had explained that not only was it a traditional community, but they were mostly families and the women tended to stay home and look after the kids.

Daryl had also quickly learned where some of the meeting places were, and did make connections with several small fighting and hunting groups, and people needing help. There were occasional skirmishes with small herds of walkers and risky humans, but nothing like the problems in Virginia.

In all, Daryl had only met one man he truly disliked. That was this morning. The man's name was Luke, and he didn't know about Daryl and Ramona. Luke and his two friends started a conversation about their weapons. Luke mentioned he'd been to Clyde's store buying guns a couple of days before all the shit went down, and then mentioned Clyde's 'daughter'. Daryl warned him to shut it down right there, but Luke didn't listen. Luke called Ramona a cunt who wouldn't put out, and that started a brawl. 

Daryl rendered two blows on Luke, and then Luke's friends got into it.

“Stay out of it. This shit's between him and me,” Daryl had told them, but they didn't listen.

“Sorry bud, but he's our friend,” one of the others proclaimed.

Daryl had to take them out too. But then, seeing those two guys bloodied on the ground for no good reason other than being friends with an asshole, Daryl started thinking about his own friends, the ones he'd left behind in Virginia.

_Day 1054_

She knew it was coming. She'd seen it in his eyes for the past few days, and sensed his tension every time he held her, especially now. They'd just made love and he wouldn't budge or speak, he just held her in an unrelenting grip. She felt the odd tear fall from him, begging her to say the words that he couldn't. Ramona gently nudged him over so they lay on their sides facing each other. She swung her leg over his hip and pulled him as closely to herself as she could. She gently caressed his back, his face, and his hair, and tried to muster up the courage to open her eyes without crying. She knew his pleading eyes would be staring back into hers. He'd been suffering, and it was time to end it. Ramona slowly opened her eyes and looked straight into his, then spoke the words he needed her to say, “You have to go back,” she whispered, “your friends need you.”

Daryl struggled to speak. “I never wanted that life,” he said, “but I have to make sure they're going to get by without me.”

“I know, love,” Ramona whispered back. “I've known since you came back that this moment would eventually come.”

“I can't bring you with me unless I know it's safe,” Daryl said, “but this is the last time I'm leaving you. I won't go through this hell again. I can't live two lives anymore.”

Ramona's face whitened like a ghost, and the tears she'd been so desperately holding back, instantly burst forth. “This is the end of us?”

“Jesus, no, never,” Daryl reassured her. “I'm trying to tell you that the next time I'm here, if or when I leave, I'm not leaving without you.”

*****

_Day 1055_

Ramona walked Pup around outside and kept watch for walkers while Daryl dismantled the fence that circled the cabin. He was trying to be quiet, but nonetheless there was the odd clattering of tin cans. When the work was done, they both went inside to pack up.

Ramona filled a plastic bag with her few items of clothing and groceries, and rinsed and filled Daryl's canteen with fresh water. When they were finally ready, Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “Where's my vest?” he asked.

“I'll check the bedroom,” Ramona offered. She went in and came out a moment later with Daryl's pillow tucked under her arm. “Must still be in the bunker,” she said. “I'll run in and get it for you when we get over there.”

Daryl noticed the pillow. “What the hell are you going to do with that?” 

“What the hell do you think I'm gonna do with it?”

“Do I wanna know?”

Ramona thought on it for a second. “Probably not,” she said.

*****

Minutes later they arrived at the entrance to the bunker. Daryl set his stuff down on the ground and brushed away the leaves and grass from the door. He knocked twice, then heaved it up. A dim light shone below.

“Light's low, they must still be asleep.”

“I'll be quiet, and I'll just be a minute,” Ramona told him. Dog followed her into the bunker as she descended with her stuff. She set her things on the table and retrieved Daryl's vest and a plastic grocery bag from the closet. When Ramona emerged to bid Daryl goodbye, she handed him the bag.

“What's this?” he asked.

“Some venison jerky I was saving for you, and a few dehydrated meals, just in case you get tired of eating critters. Oh, and a small jar of peanut butter.” Her voice was growing shaky, and she noticed Daryl's eyes tearing up. She gently touched his cheek and smiled at him. “I know you like peanut butter, love,” she whispered, “but it's not worth crying over.”

Daryl leaned in and kissed her a long passionate kiss. Ramona had to pull back before she broke down. “Stop before you get me crying again,” she said. She draped his vest over his shoulders. “No more tears, hon. Keep me in your heart, but always... always keep your head clear.”

Daryl slipped his arms through his vest. “You won't leave my heart,” he promised, “you'll be there 'til I end.”

Ramona smiled and slapped his chest. “Then don't end, sweetheart,” she said. “Just go kick some ass.”


	11. Survival's Not Enough

_Day 1452_

Daryl arrived at Michonne's house early in the morning, but he knew she'd be awake. He remembered from Judith at the prison that tiny babies always seemed to be awake early in the morning. He knocked on the door and moments later, Michonne opened it.

“Daryl! You're up early. Did you come to see the baby?”

“Yeah that, and something else I wanna talk about.”

“RJ's sleeping, but come and take a peek.”

Daryl followed Michonne into RJ's room and gazed down at the tiny two day old. He was swaddled in a thin blue blanket in the crib, with only his face visible.

“Quietly,” Michonne whispered, “I just got him to sleep.”

Daryl touched the child's blanket lightly so as not to wake him. He glanced at him for a few moments, and then gestured Michonne to leave the room with him.

They stood in front of the sofa for a minute, and then Michonne finally asked, “So what is it you want to talk about?”

Daryl pointed towards Michonne's lower back. “How is it?”

“Only been four days. Hurts like the devil. Yours?”

Daryl shrugged. “Not so much that pain that's weighin' on me, but that kids did it. Tough getting past that. I don't know... I wanna believe things are getting better, but they never get better. Something else always happens.” He stared directly at Michonne. “You know it too, that's why you've isolated Alexandria.”

Michonne didn't respond.

“I don't wanna wait anymore,” Daryl said.

Michonne was confused. “Wait for what?”

“Do you remember the day you found Rick's gun? Do you remember what you asked me?”

“I remember. I asked you if you were okay being alone. You nodded that you were, I said I wasn't.”

“I thought I was,” Daryl confessed, “but I'm not so sure anymore. Not after this. I left someone back in Georgia, somewhere safe. I've only been back twice since all this shit started, and I don't want to do it alone anymore. I told her I'd bring her out when it's safe. It's never going to be safe, and I need her with me. Here, there, or wherever she wants.”

Michonne sat down on the sofa. “What? Wow. Didn't see that coming.” She paused for a moment, wondering if it was finally Daryl's turn to have a breakdown. “Why haven't you ever said anything?”

“I try not to think on her,” Daryl said, “puts me in a gloomy mood being away from her.”

A look of amusement crossed Michonne's face. “Really? I think you spend more time thinking about her than you realize.”

Daryl didn't seem to understand what she meant.

“Does anyone else even know?” Michonne asked.

“Rick knew, and he understood. Some of the things we went through to get to this point, we wouldn't have gotten through if I wasn't focused. If I ever chose her life over others, and I would have, she wouldn't have been able to live with that. I need her with me. If that's here, I need her safe, not out there fighting, and not out there without me. You know I'll pull her weight and mine for as long as we're here.”

Michonne smiled. “Daryl, that's not even a consideration, she's more than welcome here.”

“I'm going to her, and I'm leaving today.”

Have you told Carol you're leaving?”

“Not yet. I'll stop by the Kingdom on my way.”

*****

_Day 1464_

Ramona and Dog greeted Daryl just as they had the last time he came back, Ramona with hugs and kisses, and Dog with play. When Daryl asked her how things were, she had to break the news about her aunt and uncle.

Ramona glanced at Dog. “Just been him and me for the past month,” she said.

“What happened?” Daryl asked.

“Ambush on the way to Alma's. Their group ran into a few walkers on the way and got spread out a little thin. When the escort caught up with them, they found them both dead and six wanderers, all strangers. Uncle Clyde had already taken out three of them before he went down. The escort took care of the rest. My aunt and uncle are buried down behind the store.”

Daryl wrapped his arms around her. “Sorry I wasn't here for them, for you,” he said. “I shouldn't have left.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about, hon. Even in a safe area like this, they knew there were risks out there. It is what it is.”

Daryl took her hand. “Come down the hill with me so I can say goodbye to them.” Ramona took his hand and they chatted as they strolled down the hill to the graves.

“How've you been making out here all on your own?” Daryl asked.

“I've felt lonely, but so glad to have Dog with me. He lets me know if it's safe to go out, but I only go out for him. When Uncle Clyde was here, I'd spend hours over at your cabin, just sitting out front and thinking of you. I've really missed that.”

“You know those days are over. I told you the last time I left you, that it would be the last time I left you. We've already spent too much time apart. We can stay here, go to Alexandria, or...”

“You can finally chase your dream,” Ramona interrupted. “The north woods, moose, fishing in cold clear waters, and the northern lights. Fire covering the night sky sounds good.”

Daryl smiled. “You remember.”

Ramona smiled back at him. “You have mentioned it more than once, I remember very well.”

“Might have to live in the woods for awhile until I can build something, unless we can take over an abandoned place.”

“You know I'd live in the woods with you, love, but we could take the truck if it's still where you left it. The camper can be our new home for awhile.”

“I'd forgotten all about that,” Daryl admitted. “Better than the piece of shit pickup I came here in, and the camper was all packed up and ready to go. I'll check on it tomorrow.”

They continued their walk to the rear of the store. Daryl placed some flowers on the graves and stood over them for a few minutes before they headed back to the bunker and went down inside with Dog.

“I'll put on some coffee and you can tell me about your year. Still have a few beers left if you'd rather have one of them. I don't drink the stuff.”

Daryl sat down at the table. “I could drink some real coffee,” he said. 

Ramona filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “I'll make instant,” she said.

“Not as many stories to tell this time,” Daryl conceded, “but that's all good. Feels strange not having Clyde and Bess sitting here with us.”

“I'm getting used to it now,” Ramona admitted. She went over and sat with Daryl at the table.

“Year's been confusing,” Daryl said. “Hilltop hangs a man for lesser crimes than Negan committed, yet Negan's still alive in a jail cell. I don't get it. And Rick had me trying to run Sanctuary like I was some kind of damn' mayor or somethin'. That ain't me. He wanted Saviors to get along with us and help build his vision of a new world. Had another big fight with him, but settled up. Then Rick saves us all by blowing up a bridge to stop the walkers getting through, but he disappears with the blast.”

“You think he's still alive?”

“Searched for a long time. If he was dead, I would have found him.”

“That's when you left?”

“I stuck around for a bit, wanted to make sure things would go okay without Rick there. Daryl stood up, turned his back to Ramona and lifted the bottom of his shirt. “Then this happened.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ramona gasped. “Someone branded you?”

“Michonne too, and she was just about to drop her kid.” Daryl turned around and sat back down. “It ain't even the branding, hon, it's who did it. Fuckin' little brainwashed kids.”

“Little psychopaths you mean.”

“Most of them are dead now. Michonne had let their guardian, an old friend of hers, into Alexandria. The 'friend' runs off in the night with Alexandria's kids. Got branded when we tracked them down. After all that went down, Michonne put Alexandria in isolation. A couple of days later, I left. I wanted to keep you safe here until I knew it was safe out there, but safe ain't never gonna happen. I don't want to be out there alone anymore, hon. I'm done with that shit.”

“Then I'm done with that shit too,” Ramona proclaimed. The kettle started boiling and Ramona made up two coffees, set them on the table, and stepped over behind Daryl's chair. She started massaging his shoulders. 

“Feels good, hon, but the coffee's too hot.”

Ramona stepped back as Daryl got up from his chair. He turned around and kissed her, put his arms around her, and backed her towards the sofa. “Could take a while for it to cool off,” he whispered.

“Could take a long while,” Ramona whispered back, as Daryl laid her down on the sofa.

*****

_Day 1479_

Daryl had already taken Ramona's clothes, some bedding, ammo and the three remaining bags of dog food to the cabin. The truck was still up on the logging road and hadn't been touched. It would stay there until they left the following day. Ramona was leaving practically everything else in the bunker for the new family that was moving in today. It was a family of six, including three children, that had been sharing a very small space with another family for over a year. 

Ramona was taking a last look around the bunker when Daryl came down the steps. “Ya got everything you want outta here now?”

“Just these left to go and Clyde's prized 303,” Ramona said. She slung the rifle over her shoulder, and placed a small photo album and her handgun into Daryl's bag. She stopped for a moment to take a final glance around and for a moment envisioned her aunt and uncle sitting at the table playing cribbage. 

“I'm glad others are moving in here,” Ramona said as they emerged from the bunker. “I know Uncle Clyde and Aunt Bess wouldn't have wanted the place going to waste.”

Daryl closed the bunker door and walked Ramona and Dog to the cabin. He dropped his bag on the table. “Shouldn't be long,” he said, “I'll be meeting up with them about a mile down the road.”

“Do you wanna take Dog with you?”

“No, keep him in here with you. After I get back, we'll go for a final walk around the place before dark, and take off early tomorrow.”

Daryl left, and Ramona lit the lantern and closed the door before laying down on the sofa. She reminisced on the years of her life that she had spent on the property with her aunt and uncle. She had thought it was hard to leave her home in Detroit so many years ago, but this was proving much more difficult. She knew her sorrow would lessen as the memories faded with time, and that gave her some solace. She also knew that it was this cabin that would pull at her heartstrings the most. Daryl had often called it his secret hideout from the world, and she would tease him by calling it her pleasure palace. In essence though, it was both of those things for both of them.

Ramona suddenly felt a tugging on her shoulder. “You fell asleep there again,” Daryl said. “Get your ass up if you wanna do a walk around.”

“Shit, sorry,” Ramona said. “Did you get them all settled in?”

“They're down there. Nice people, cute kids. Happy as shit with the space, and grateful for the food and other supplies. I showed them where everything is, how everything works. They said they'd stay inside for a couple of days, give us privacy until we're gone.”

Ramona stretched her arms and rose to her feet.

“So, where do you want to wander to?” Daryl asked.

“Just three spots,” Ramona said. “I want to go down to the store to visit the graves, I want to go in front of the store where you first kissed me, and I want to go to our tree. That one's gonna hurt, you better be prepared for tears.”

Daryl laughed. “Honey, with you, I'm *always* prepared for tears.”

“Good,” she said as she took hold of his hand.

Ramona picked a few wildflowers on their way to the graves. She stood over her aunt and uncle and said goodbye for the last time, and left the flowers. Daryl walked her around to the front of the store and kissed her in the spot of their first kiss. “You're doing well so far,” he said, “your eyes are barely wet.” 

“Hard to drum up sorrow when you're kissing me and it's not a goodbye,” Ramona confessed.

They started back up the hill and stopped at the tree where Daryl had carved his token of love for her. That was the dam buster, not because it was the last time she would see it, but because she realized that Daryl had actually cut the small section right out of the tree.

“I knew you wouldn't want to leave it behind,” he said, “it's wrapped up in some clothes in my bag.”

Ramona spun around and put her arms around him. “God, honey, thanks,” she said, “thank you for these happy tears.”

“Never seen anybody so happy over a chunk of wood,” Daryl said, knowing that it was anything but. “Anything else you wanna see out here before my shirt's totally soaked?”

Ramona finished drying up her tears on his shirt, and then grinned mischievously at him. “No,” she said. “I think we should head back to the cabin and get that wet shirt off you.”

Daryl chuckled. “I know you sweetheart, you ain't gonna stop at the shirt, are you?”

Ramona planted a kiss on his lips. “Can't help it, honey, I'm a woman in love. It's all I think about. You gonna stop me?”

“Can't stop ya, honey... I'm a man. Let's go, wet shirt's buggin' the shit out of me now.”


	12. The Road To Hell

_Day 1484_

On the fourth day of their trip to Alexandria, Daryl noticed an overgrown driveway and pulled off the road. It looked like a good spot to rest for the night. “Making good time,” he said, “could even hit Virginia tomorrow if we don't run into many more roadblocks. Still have plenty of gas cans in the back too.” The driveway ran parallel to the road, so Daryl drove up it and just around the bend so the truck would be hidden from the road.

*****

At the same time, two men in a beige sedan made a turn onto the road just in time to see the truck camper pulling over into the woods far in the distance. “That's some kind of luck,” the driver said. “Right at the crest of a hill too. Let's give them ten, then get out there and do your thing for a few minutes. Then we'll coast right down this hill quiet as a mouse.”

***** 

Daryl shut the engine off. “Stay in here 'til I check out the area for walkers,” he said. He reached around to the back seat, grabbed his crossbow, and got out of the truck with Dog. They returned a few minutes later and he gave Ramona the all clear. 

Ramona stepped out of the truck and pulled her hair back. “Jesus, this hair is getting annoying. I should have cut it before we left.” She reached over to Daryl and moved the hair away from his face. “I don't know how you do it, hon, drives me crazy.”

“Go find an elastic or somethin',” Daryl said.

“Looked already, no luck.”

Daryl pulled a thin red bandana from his pocket and twisted it tightly. “Turn around and I'll put your hair up,” he said. “Colour even matches your shirt, but it's got a little grease stain on it.”

Ramona turned around so her back was facing him. “I can do dirt and grease,” she said.

Daryl pulled her hair into a ponytail and tied the cloth tightly around it. “Yes you can,” he whispered in her ear.

Ramona giggled and turned back around to face him. “Save that dirty talk for tonight, hon,” she said. “I'm starving. Gonna go make an early dinner.”

“I could eat.”

Ramona went around to the back of the truck and climbed up into the camper. Suddenly she heard piercing screams in the distance. She poked her head out the door as Daryl came around to the back. “I'll check it out, you stay here,” he said.

Ramona grabbed her handgun from the counter. “Here, take this, twelve rounds in here... in case you run out of arrows.” Daryl accepted the gun. 

Daryl called Dog over. “Get up there,” he said.

“No, take him with you,” Ramona insisted, “you might need his help.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, then agreed. “Okay, but keep that door closed and stay quiet. If any walkers show up they won't know you're here.” He and Dog ran off into the woods in the direction of the screams.

Several minutes later, Ramona heard a car door slam. She quickly glanced around for her gun, and remembered she'd just given it to Daryl. “Shit,” she muttered. She grabbed the six boxes of 9mm ammo off the shelf and tossed it into Daryl's bag, then added two bottles of water from the cupboard, and a box of matches from the drawer. She grabbed the bag and her spear and scurried out the door. She tossed the bag into the bush for Daryl in case things went bad, and then raced to the front of the truck to grab the rifle; but a burly man with red hair was already standing by the driver's door aiming a gun at her. Ramona pointed her spear at the stranger.

“Metal beats wood,” he said.

A moment later, a skinny bald man emerged from the trees at the front of the truck. Ramona immediately realized the strangers had taken a shortcut through the woods from the road. 

Ramona lunged at the burly man with her spear. He grabbed it, broke it over his knee, and tossed it away.

“Dangerous for you to be travelling with the decent type,” he told her. “The more cautious ones aren't so quick to answer a distress call.”

The skinny man stepped forward and walked around behind Ramona. He grabbed her wrists and tied them tightly behind her. Ramona screamed.

“Don't make another sound, or we'll wait for him to come back and kill him,” Skinny said. 

“We just want your shit, lady,” Burly added. “Where's the keys?”

“Look in the fucking window you idiot, they're in the ignition,” Ramona told him. “Go. Take everything, just go, get the fuck out of here.”

Burly slapped Ramona's face. “Watch your goddamn language,” he spat.

“Stop fucking around,” Skinny told his partner. “Between my screaming and her screaming, the bloody walkers are going to be all over this place.”

Burly grabbed Ramona, and Skinny quickly tied her ankles together. Both the men lifted her up and tossed her into the back seat of the truck, and moved the rifle to the front seat. Skinny took off through the woods back down to the road. Burly hopped into the driver's seat, started the truck, and quickly backed down the driveway.

Ramona was rolling around in the back seat as the truck backed up. When it hit the pavement, she rolled right down on the floor between the front and back seats. Her face stung, her arms hurt, and her heart ached for Daryl; but she didn't cry. She knew that Daryl would be safe, and she wasn't about to give this prick the satisfaction of seeing her in tears.

*****

Daryl was sure he'd reached the area where the screams came from, but there was nothing there but silence. He wandered around the area a little but still found nothing. No people, no walkers, nothing. He realized he'd been duped when he heard Ramona's faint scream in the distance. Daryl's heart froze. “Go get mom!” he shouted at Dog. Dog took off and Daryl raced behind him. He was more than halfway back when he heard wheels squealing on the pavement. “Oh, Jesus, not again!” he shouted as he ran.

Dog was sitting down whining when Daryl reached the empty spot where he'd left the truck. He called out Ramona's name, but there was no response. He scanned the area and noticed the broken spear laying on the ground.

“Find mom!” he screamed at Dog, but Dog just ran around in a circle. Then Dog caught a whiff of something, and darted into the bush. He sat down and started to bark.

“God, no,” Daryl muttered. Dog's barking suddenly grew more frantic and Daryl noticed a walker heading straight for Dog. He fired an arrow into the walker's head and ran to Dog. He was afraid to look down at the ground though, afraid of what he would see. The sudden thought that she may just be laying there hurt, forced him to glance down. Daryl saw only his black leather bag, and fell to his knees.

Dog came over and laid down next to Daryl. “Don't worry, we'll find her,” he said to Dog, but he was really talking to himself. He opened up his bag and saw the matches, bottled water, and the boxes of ammo. He knew she'd wasted precious seconds gathering up those things for him. Daryl leaned forward, laid his head on the bag, and cried his own heart out.

*****

Ramona realized the truck had finally arrived at its destination when it stopped and she could hear the voices of other people. In the background there was a steady throbbing sound, like machinery or distant thunder. She wasn't certain how long she'd been laying there on the floor, but it felt like at least a couple of hours. The truck ran fast and had made several turns, but only two short stops. It was obvious to her that these people had a clear route to this place.

Moments later, the truck doors opened and Burly was pulling her out by the arms. He stood her up while Skinny removed her ties. She looked around the large compound and immediately realized it used to be an airport. She could see the terminal building, and large hangers and smaller brick buildings off in the background. She saw the control tower too, and noted rifle barrels poking out from where the windows used to be.

Another man suddenly approached. He was short and dressed in black, and had a vintage SKS with a bayonet slung over his shoulder. He had a beard and long black hair tied in the back. Ramona automatically reached up to her own head and momentarily touched the bandana that Daryl had used to tie up her hair. 'Don't think about him... don't think about him... don't think about him...' she recited to herself.

“Hey Carlos, here's her paperwork,” Burly said as he passed a sheet of paper to the new man. Carlos took it, grabbed hold of Ramona's arm, and led her to the terminal building. They went inside and down a long hallway to a white door at the end. Carlos knocked on the door and a tall redheaded woman in a beige pantsuit opened it.

“For processing,” Carlos said. He passed the paper to the woman, shoved Ramona into the room, and closed the door behind him as he left. The room was obviously a segregated portion of the terminal as the far wall was all glass and a short row of blue plastic seats sat against the right side wall. Directly ahead of Ramona there was a small metal desk with a clipboard and assorted coloured bracelets sitting on top. To the left was another room with a white door.

“My name 's Michelle,” the redhead said. “I just want to take your temperature and ask you a few questions before you see the doctor.” She pulled a thermometer out of her pocket and held it in Ramona's ear for a moment, then checked it and stuffed in back in her pocket. 

“I'm not sick,” Ramona told her. “I don't know why I was brought here. You have no right. I want to leave, and I want to leave now.”

“There's nothing for you out there,” Michelle said. “It's for your own good as well as ours that you stay. It's safe here.” She gestured towards the row of chairs. “Have a seat over there.”

“I was safe out there!” Ramona exclaimed.

“Obviously not safe enough,” Michelle retorted. “It's important that we get you settled in here quickly, and things will go better for you if you co-operate. Will you co-operate and go take a seat, or shall I have Carlos come make you?”

Ramona went over and sat down. “What are the questions?” she asked.

The woman lifted a clipboard and pen from the desk and prepared to write. “What was your previous occupation?

“Store clerk,” Ramona replied.

“Any hobbies? Any skills?”

“No.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “Really? No trade work, no skills, no self defence or weapons training, not even gardening, sewing or cooking?”

“I can't even type, and my aunt did all the cooking.”

“Perhaps I should write a capital 'U' for useless on your paperwork,” Michelle suggested. “How the hell did you survive out there for years?”

Ramona shrugged her shoulders. “My uncle looked after us.”

Michelle referred to the paper that Carlos had passed to her. “It says here that you were travelling with a man. Are you part of a community? Will they be looking for you?”

“He was my brother,” Ramona said, “and we had a community of four. My aunt, uncle, brother and me.”

“And where are your aunt and uncle?”

Ramona took the opportunity to release her tears over being taken from Daryl. “Walkers got them,” she sobbed.

Michelle ignored Ramona's distress and simply continued the drill. “Any health conditions or allergies we should know of, or any family history of such?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been pregnant or had any children?”

“I have tubal agenesis, and you can't get help for that sort of thing anymore.”

Michelle scribbled something down, then went and opened the door to the doctor's office. “Won't need you doc, just another Level 3.” Michelle went to the desk, snatched up a brown rubber bracelet, and walked over to Ramona.

Ramona wiped the tears from her face with her hand. “What's a Level 3?” she asked.

“Unfortunately for you, they're the poorest fed group here,” Michelle told her. “Level 1 are skilled, Level 2 are breeders. You're a worker.” 

Michelle slid the bracelet over Ramona's right hand. “You can leave now. Carlos is waiting for you right outside the door. He'll take you to the workers' hangar. Someone there will give you a job and put you to work tomorrow.”

*****

Daryl and Dog followed the road for several miles before they hit an intersection. Along the way, he'd only come across seven walkers, and he made short work of them with his knife. He didn't care if more came. He wanted more to come. He wanted a whole herd to come so he could kill them all. He felt like a ghost, a ghost full of rage and heartache. Killing walkers up close with his knife gave him some release of rage, little as it was. There was nothing to be done for the heartache.

Dog started to lag behind and Daryl realized the animal was getting tired. He also wasn't sure whether he should continue straight through or turn right. He decided to head into the woods on his right and find a place to camp, hunt for some food, and rest for the night.

*****

Carlos led Ramona out of the terminal building and she was able to see more of the compound. The entire complex was surrounded by a high chain link fence. At a distance off to her left was a fast moving waterfall that fed into a wide river. She realized that was the noise she heard. There was a building on the bank by the waterfall that Ramona assumed was where they got their power. A large portion of the river was fenced off above the falls and further downstream, and along the bank on the far side.

Carlos tugged her to the right in the direction of the workers hanger. Beyond that she could see huge gardens, a small orchard, and some crop fields. Carlos led her into the hanger through a man door. Inside, rows of cots took up most of the space, but there was also a long row of tables along one wall. There were no chairs. Several people were milling around, some sitting on their cots.

Carlos led her to her cot. A sheet, blanket, and small airplane pillow sat on the corner of the thin mattress. “This is where you sleep,” he said. He then pointed to the tables. “They put food there morning and evening. There's a door to the outside at the back, and there's benches out there. You can go out there to sit when you're not working.” Carlos turned around and headed out of the hanger.

Ramona sat alone on her cot and looked around at the people. Most of them just looked sad, and few of them were talking with others. She decided to get up and take a look out the back door. There was a concrete pad stretching the length of the hanger that ran about twenty feet out. It was surrounded by a six foot chain link fence. Several benches and three picnic tables were scattered about the area, and a few people were wandering around or sitting.

Ramona walked to the fence and noticed a group of vehicles a couple of hundred feet away, including the truck camper. Two people were busy unloading it and piling everything into carts. Ramona gripped the fence. It was only last night that she had slept with Daryl in that camper. She wished she could run out there now and wrap herself up in those sheets. She suddenly let go of the fence, ran back inside to her cot, and buried her face in her pillow. Ramona struggled fiercely to hold back her tears, but they came anyway. 


	13. Grief-Stricken

_Day 1634_

Daryl and Dog had been searching for Ramona for five months and had yet to find any evidence of her. They'd been out over a hundred miles, zigzagging back and forth, and were now coming back to near the area where she was taken. There was an abandoned cabin about four miles from where he was now. He'd found it the day he originally set out, the day she was taken, and he was able to get a pot and some utensils to carry with him.

During their search they'd come across several small groups of both walkers and people. The walkers he killed. The people he was even more leery of, even the loners. He'd come across a surprising number of loners and small groups of people, and found himself questioning the widespread belief that communities really were safer than going it alone. He would follow people for a time at a safe distance, but he gleaned no leads from that. He lost track of the number of buildings he'd searched, and reflected on the days when Rick and the others would clear buildings together.

Neither Daryl nor Dog had gone hungry or thirsty for several weeks. This part of the woods was rife with game and nut trees, and he found numerous springs where he could fill his water bottles; but the weather was turning cold now. Snow could fall at any time, and that was never a good thing.

Dog had been walking faithfully beside Daryl for some time when Dog suddenly lunged to the side, stopped, and stared off in one direction. “You smell somethin' boy?” Daryl asked. Dog looked at him, then looked back. Daryl took in a deep breath. He could smell it too, wood burning. He patted Dog's head and recited the words spoken too many times to count, “Ya think that's mom? Let's go find out.” He followed Dog for a good distance, and when he could finally see the fire, he approached cautiously, keeping himself hidden in the treeline. His heart was pounding in his chest, as it did every time he thought he might have finally found her.

Daryl was disappointed yet again. The only person around, the one sitting by the fire, was a very old black man with white hair. There was a grate on the fire, and a pot on the grate. Daryl looked at Dog and told him to stay. Daryl circled the area, and when he was satisfied the man was no threat, he made the unusual decision to approach.

“Hey!” Daryl shouted, announcing himself. He sauntered towards the man and stood next to him. “Anyone else with you?”

“Only me, name's Nathaniel.” 

“Daryl.”

“You travelling alone?”

Daryl whistled for Dog who immediately came running. “Just me and him.” 

Dog greeted Nathaniel enthusiastically with face licks and a wagging tail, and he was rewarded with plenty of ear and head scratching.

“Your dog's tellin' me you must be one of the good guys,” Nathaniel said. “You're welcome to share the fire for the night. Gonna be dark soon.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said.

“Love dogs, but I've never seen one this happy to meet a stranger,” Nathaniel offered.

“How long you been here?” Daryl asked.

“Four weeks. Messed up my legs some.” Nathaniel pointed towards Daryl's shoulder. “Can barely make it over there to the spring to get water anymore,” he said. “You been travellin' long?”

“Five months,” Daryl told him. “How are you surviving?”

“I had some provisions when I went down, got some since. I'm near my end anyway. I can feel it. Won't be more than a couple of days now. Been praying for someone to come along before a walker does, someone who can make a proper end of it when I'm gone. Don't wanna come back as one of those things. Would you consider sticking around for a couple of days, see me outta this world right?”

Daryl was anxious to continue his search, but he wasn't about to leave the man like this, and he wasn't going to kill him... unless he asked. “Guess I could. Dog could probably use a rest. We'll go out tomorrow and get you some food.”

Daryl was about to sit down when Nathaniel pulled a bulging red bandana from his coat pocket. He carefully opened it up and invited Daryl to help himself to some shelled nuts. Dog started barking and spinning in circles, then sat still and started whining. “What's that all about?” Nathaniel asked, “Your dog like nuts?”

Daryl shushed the dog and then suddenly noticed the bandana. “Can I see the cloth?”

Nathaniel dumped the nuts into his own hand and handed the bandana to Daryl.

Daryl's heart started to pound when he recognized the grease stain in the corner. “Where'd you get this?”

“A gal gave it to me about three weeks ago. Said she was trying to find her way to Alexandria. I pointed out the general direction, but didn't know the route, I was there decades ago. She was kind enough, but carrying around some powerful hurt.” 

“Where is she? What happened to her?”

“Gone.”

“What d'ya mean gone? Dead?”

“No, nothin' like that. Could be now I suppose, don't know. She stayed here a few days, cleaned up my legs as best she could. Went out hunting and fishing and cooked a few meals for me. Said she'd stay as long as I needed her, but I couldn't suffer those damn tears any longer. Damn woman sobbed all night. Had her spells in the daytime too. Had to ask her to leave. She gathered me up some nuts, a couple of rabbits, and even set out a mess of fish to dry for me. Name was Ramona.”

Daryl's knees weakened at the sound of her name, and he had to sit down. “She was here three weeks ago,” he muttered.

“Sat in that very same spot,” Nathaniel said. He studied Daryl's face. “Looks like you're carrying the same heartache she is.”

Daryl nodded. “I've been searching for her. Lost her five months ago, and this is the closest I've come to finding her in all that time.”

“Guess I should have figured that one out,” Nathaniel said. “It's all in your name, you know. 'Daryl' means beloved. You gonna start crying too?”

“Been doing a lot of that too, but I'll try to keep it down to a manly level for ya.”

“Thanks,” Nathaniel said. “Guess I'll take some comfort that the two visitors I've had in the past three weeks are more bloody miserable than I am.”

“Sorry,” Daryl said quietly. He took off his crossbow and laid himself flat on the ground. “Tell me about her, did she look well? Was she still strong? Was she thin, hungry?”

“She didn't look sick or anything,” Nathaniel told him. “She was able to forage, fish, and hunt. Had a sense of humour too, hard to find in this world. Made me laugh a few times, when she wasn't bawlin' her eyes out that is.”

Daryl chuckled. “Yeah, she does that. She never used to cry in front of others either. Guess we all have our breaking points.”

“I told her that her name, Ramona, meant 'protector', and she told me that her last name was Birch, so she must be a protector of trees. Then she picked up an armful of branches, tossed them into the fire, and said, 'Oops, guess not'.”

“So, what's your name mean?”

“Gift of God,” Nathaniel said. “Funny sometimes how things work out, isn't it. I end up stuck here and both of you happen across me.”

“Never had cause to thank God for anything before.”

Nathaniel carried on with his narrative. “She carried an odd looking blanket too, called it her ghillie tarp. It was a piece of netting or something, with little strips of brown, green and grey cloth tied everywhere. I told her it looked ridiculous. She said she was a woman of substance, not style, and she didn't give a rat's ass what it looked like. She said she used it to hide under when there were too many walkers around, and to sleep under at night.”

“That's good,” Daryl said.

“Shame is what she went through to get it.”

“What?”

“She was held in a compound, used to be an airport. She said it must have been over a hundred miles from where she'd been taken because they were driving fast for a couple of hours. Said she escaped about four and half months ago. Took her that long to get this far. Did it all on her own too. Anyway, her job at the airport was to undress the dead walkers. That's how she got the cloth.”

“Why the fuck would they be undressing walkers?” Daryl asked.

“I wondered the same thing. She told me they had gardens and fields, and they used the walker flesh and bone in their compost pits, but they didn't want anything going in that would delay the rot. They wanted the textiles too, but she didn't know why. I'd feel sorrier for the person who had to cut up the bodies.”

“Jesus, this world is so fucking insane,” Daryl muttered.

“No shit.”

“How'd she get away?”

“Told me she smelled pretty bad doing that job and they made her bathe in some fenced off section of a river when she was done her work each day. She said on her second day there, she found a box cutter in a walker's pocket and was able to hide it. Made me laugh when she said, “I stuck it up my ass but I made sure it was closed first.” Then she told me she just slipped it inside her shoe.”

“She can be determined if needs be,” Daryl said. “Probably would have stuck it up her ass if she had too.”

Nathaniel continued, “Then she offered to take the walker clothes with her to the river and rinse them so they wouldn't stink up the laundry so bad. Said she was left pretty much alone down there because no one likes the smell of decomp. Every day at the river, she'd pick out items of clothing, slice them into strips, and hide them under rocks. Also, when she bathed, she'd push and pull dirt and rocks out from under the fence where it crossed the water. It took her two weeks to dig out a trench she could slip through. On her final trip to the river, she filled a shirt with the strips and swam with it under the fence and downriver as far as she could. Went into the woods, climbed a tree, and stayed there until she finished her blanket.”

“Good girl,” Daryl whispered.

“Lucky girl,” Nathaniel remarked. “Afterwards, she scavenged a few cabins and managed to scrape together some knives, lighters, a bit of food, and some fishing gear. She made a couple of spears to hunt and handle walkers. Said she even scored some smokes, but hadn't smoked for so long they made her choke at first. Said she was happiest finding a pair of shoes because she left hers behind when she went in the water and her feet were cut up. What she wanted most of all was a map, but she never found one.”

*****

_Day 1636_

Daryl spent the day as he had the day before. With the help of Dog, he'd been able to pick up Ramona's tracks and follow them, so far yesterday, a little further today. He'd follow them for a few hours, make a mental note of the location, and then head back to Nathaniel, hunting for food along the way.

Nathaniel wasn't oblivious to Daryl's predicament. He'd even offered Daryl a way out the previous morning when he'd said, “Do it now, and go find her.” Daryl refused, only because he knew Ramona wouldn't have wanted that done just for her.

When Daryl arrived back at the camp this evening, he found Nathaniel in a confused state and barely able to speak. His end was very near, and Daryl stayed awake and waited for it. He told stories to Nathaniel about Ramona, how at ease she made him feel, how she brought love into his life, and the bitter months apart from her. Daryl didn't know if Nathaniel understood what he was saying, but he said it all the same. Eventually, Nathaniel breathed his last breath, and Daryl fulfilled the man's last wish by sliding his knife through Nathaniel's neck into his brain stem.

Daryl pulled Nathaniel's blanket up over his face, and then laid down for a few hours sleep. He would leave in the morning, after finding a spot to bury Nathaniel.

*****

_Day 1652_

Daryl and Dog had been tracking Ramona for fifteen days and had covered only twenty miles, but it left only twenty more miles to Alexandria. He'd not only tracked her footprints, but had found places where she camped and slept, where she hid, where she'd stopped to have a smoke, where she went up into the trees, and where she'd killed walkers. The doubt and misery he'd endured over the five months without any leads had evolved into certainty and elation. 

Daryl was following her tracks when he suddenly stopped. “Here she goes again, Dog,” he said, followed by, “Jesus, honey, you're going the wrong way.” He'd lost track of the number of times he'd said that. She'd always managed to get headed back in the right direction, but it had added days and weeks to her trek. Daryl didn't know if she was being guided by the night sky, the morning sun, or dumb luck. She was making her way to Alexandria, but very, very slowly.

When Daryl arrived at Ramona's most recent campsite, it seemed only a few days old. He knew he was getting very close to finally catching up to her. He decided to spend the night there as it was getting late and he and Dog were both tired. He started a fire where she had, shared a rabbit with Dog, and they both fell asleep.

_Day 1653_

In the morning, Daryl woke to a sea of white, and he cried out in frustration. The snow had hidden any chance of recovering her tracks, and would make it more difficult for her to hide herself from danger. He decided to head to Alexandria with the hope that she would either already be there, or that he would come across her or her tracks in the snow somewhere along the way. He and Dog would do ten or so miles today, and the rest tomorrow.


	14. No More Tears

_Day 1664_

As they had done every morning for over a week, Daryl and Dog were heading out of Alexandria on their daily search. He came across Carol and Michonne chatting together and beyond them, near the gate, two Kingdom soldiers on horseback were holding a horse for Carol.

“Out looking again today?” Michonne asked.

“Every day 'til I find her,” Daryl answered. “Snow's almost melted. Have a better chance now.”

“Yeah, you do,” Carol offered hopefully.

Daryl looked at Carol. “Want anything from the house before you head back?” he asked.

“No. Just don't go redecorating my room. Never know when I might need to come back.”

Daryl grinned. “Yeah, like I'm gonna redecorate anything,” he said. “Best be on my way.” He leaned over and gave Carol a hug, then said goodbye to Michonne.

*****

Ramona, finally, reached Alexandria. The gates were open and she strolled right in. There were three horses ahead to her left. Oddly dressed men were sitting on two of them and the horse in the middle had no rider. There were roads and houses inside, like a regular neighbourhood. She looked up the road and saw Daryl and Dog. Daryl was talking with two women. He hugged one of them, and then they all turned around, facing in her direction.

“Daryl,” Ramona whispered, unable to find her full voice. Her legs felt weak, but she summoned up everything she had and started running towards him.

She heard yelling around her. People were shouting, “Drop your weapon!,” but she was totally focused on Daryl and didn't even realize the people were shouting at her. She'd been carrying her spear around for so long it had become a part of her. She noticed Daryl suddenly drop his crossbow and come racing towards her. She heard a horse rear and felt herself falling backwards. And then her world went black.

“NO!” Daryl screamed when he saw the horse rear and the arrow fly from the Kingdom solider towards Ramona, but it was too late. Ramona had fallen backwards into the snow crusted dirt.

“I was aiming for the ground in front of her!” the man yelled, “It was a warning shot! I didn't mean to hit her!”

Daryl ran to Ramona and dropped to his knees beside her. He untied the tarp where it was fastened around her neck, and gathered her up in his arms. “You're hit, you're hit, where is it, where is it!” he cried out. Tears were running down his face as he frantically searched for the arrow. He couldn't find it, and he couldn't find any blood. People were running over and gathering around him. Daryl threw a fist in the air and screamed at them. “Get away! Get the hell away!”

Finally, he found the arrow. “Oh, Jesus, you have the luck,” he said. The arrow hadn't struck her at all. It had torn through the bottom edge of the tarp and pinned it tight to the ground, pulling her backwards and forcing her to the ground.

Ramona started moaning and squirming in Daryl's arms. She opened her eyes and reached out haphazardly to touch his cheek, nearly slapping his face in the process. “Daryl?”

“You're okay, honey. You tripped is all.” Daryl brushed the snow and sand from her face and kissed her. He stroked her hair and spoke to her, “You're alright, you tripped is all,” he repeated.

Emotionally spent, Ramona broke into tears and let herself melt into his arms. Daryl held her firmly and gently rocked her. He didn't even notice the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered around them. They were obviously impressed with his stoic ability to conceal that part of his life.

Carol and Michonne covertly dispersed the crowd, giving their orders in hushed tones. 

“Guess she is real,” Carol whispered to Michonne once the crowd had left.

“Yeah,” Michonne whispered back, “I was beginning to wonder about him too.”

When Ramona was ready, Daryl helped her up to her feet. The two of them struggled to get as close as they could to each other and immersed each other in kisses, hugs, gentle touches, and whispers. Ramona only then noticed that Daryl's whiskers were singed. She touched his chin. “What happened? Half your whiskers are gone.”

“Lighter flared up on me this morning when I was trying to light a smoke,” Daryl said. “Lucky it wasn't any closer to my face.”

At that moment, Dog appeared out of nowhere and started jumping at their legs. Ramona bent down to scratch his head and snuggle with him for a few moments. “Who's a good boy,” she crooned, “who's a good boy.”

“He helped me track you for months,” Daryl told her, “but we were only able to trace you within twenty miles of Alexandria, and that was ten days ago. Been searching every day since.” Daryl grinned. “We did learn that your directional skills need a little work.”

“Told you that four and a half years ago,” Ramona said.

Daryl wrapped his arm around her back. “Let's go home,” he said. He walked her to his house, stopping to scoop up his crossbow from the ground on the way.

“Big house,” Ramona commented as they went up the steps.

“Was a big empty house, but not any more. We'll be here at least until Spring. Not the right time of year to head north.”

“At least we can have campfires in the backyard,” Ramona suggested.

Daryl opened the door for her and followed her inside, then closed the door behind them.

“I'm so sorry,” Daryl said. “I'm sorry I left you at the truck.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, love. I wouldn't have expected anything less from you than trying to help someone else.”

“I met Nathaniel. He told me where you were and how you got away. They didn't... hurt you. You're... okay?”

“I'm good, nothing like that happened,” she said, reading between the lines. “I assume Nathaniel's gone then, seeing as you're here. I know you wouldn't have left him. I offered to stay, but he didn't seem to want me around.”

Daryl nodded. “Said you cried too much, especially at night.”

“That's when I missed you the most,” Ramona confessed, “I tried to be brave, honey, but I was scared. I missed the comfort of having you laying next to me.” She started to cry.

Daryl wiped away her tears with his finger. “No more tears,” he said, “for either of us.”

Ramona sniffled as she nodded her agreement. “So... when the hell are you going to kiss me again then?”

Daryl leaned towards her, almost touching her lips, but abruptly pulled back. “Oh, hold on,” he said. “I forgot. I have to ask you three questions before you can stay in Alexandria.”

“You're kidding right?”

“Not kidding. How many walkers have you killed?”

Ramona stood on her toes and kissed her way up Daryl's neck to his ear. “Felt like a thousand,” she whispered.

“Stop cheating, honey. How many people have you killed?”

“It's going to be 'one' if you don't stop asking these fucking questions and kiss me.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm crazy in love with you, standing in front of you, and we haven't had sex for six months.”

“All good answers, hon, guess you can stay,” Daryl kissed Ramona's ear. “I wouldn't have stopped searching for you until I found you,” he whispered.

“I know that, and you're using a totally unnecessary seduction tactic.”

“What's that?”

“The 'whispering in my ear with a voice that turns me into a quivering steamy mess' manoeuvre,” Ramona replied. She started unfastening Daryl's shirt. “Ahhh... snaps,” she muttered approvingly. 

Daryl lightly kissed her lips. “You mean this voice,” he taunted.

“Stop it, love, I'm already panting. And the next words that pass your lips better include an extended invitation to your bed.”

Daryl took her hand and led her to his bedroom. “Open invitation sweetheart, no expiry date. You understand what I'm saying?”

“I do.”

  
*** The End ***


End file.
